


Legacy

by tessoftheburgervilles



Category: Twilight, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-13 06:15:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/820973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tessoftheburgervilles/pseuds/tessoftheburgervilles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Bella's wedding, Jacob runs away again and returns with a woman whose past AND future are inexplicably linked to Jacob and the pack. Times change as they fall in love, and the pack dynamics are never the same. Jacob/OC; Embry/Leah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_** PROLOGUE ** _

  


If you would consider and  _count_  all the stories told by many people – grandparents, mothers, uncles, village chiefs, writers, gossipmongers even – in every point on the globe, one would find that the pages filled by these very stories could cover the entire Earth in a mind-boggling number of layers several times over. And among these pages and among these layers of crazy plotlines and unusual character developments, you would find one such story. A hidden story. A story made forcibly a secret.

A terrible, sad, and tragic story that will tell you something you didn't know before.

The  _truth_  to be exact.

This story, like all other stories, began somewhere—home to the Quileutes, and, more importantly, home to the unusual pack of young shape shifters. It began in the latter half of the nineteenth century when the small group of young men, who turned into wolves, brothers of spirit, coped with this new lifestyle, learning on the go as they protected the Quileutes whenever danger in the form of the Cold Ones appeared. They were a tight knit pack often relying on each other in times of difficulty.

Ephraim Black was one of them, but he wasn't The One. He wasn't the Alpha. The second in command, yes, but not the Alpha…  _initially._

The Alpha was another man—a stronger, taller, and wiser man. But the only record of his identity tells us that he was called Victor.

Victor was a rare leader, the first one in his generation to have embraced the different life, and the first in line to become Chief. Woeful of his father's recent death and the impending responsibility of leading his tribe, along with the presence of blood drinkers, Victor phased. As if to give him company,  _four_  other Quileute men underwent the transformation. Yes, there was another young shape shifter besides Victor, Ephraim, Levi and Quil. His name, his very existence is, and will remain, a mystery… on Victor's orders.

Before the Quileutes would sign treaties with settlers and before the coven of Cullens would stumble across their land, the land of La Push was once  _visited_  by a single adventurous vampire. Fascinated by the unique, revolting smell that seemed to hang around the entire land, the vampire entered the settlement, but little did he know, he was about to unleash one of the greatest tragedies on the wolf pack.

Victor was the first to catch the warning stench and the closest to the young woman who flopped helplessly in the leering vampire's hands as he zipped lithely to the banks of the river. The sight was almost too much for Victor to bear, for the woman was the first to be imprinted upon. By the unnamed wolf.

Because Victor shared minds with his pack brother, he could feel his brother's love for the woman, and therefore, according to Victor, she was as good as family. Enraged by the vampire's hands glittering in the sun scandalously groping the struggling woman as his fangs were bared, dripping with barely controlled venom, Victor made a mad dash towards the vile creature. Unaware of the intensity of his own fury, and of the vampire's lightning fast reflexes, Victor launched himself at the vampire.

A few feet away, the other wolf just arrived, as the woman he loved was thrown aside carelessly by the vampire, as his Alpha crashed into the water, strong, pale hands clutched in a death grip around his muzzle. He dashed to her side in the blink of an eye. His insides froze as the first drop of blood trickled down the deep gash in the woman's forehead. The world seemed to stop slowly and putter out just as the woman's heart eventually quietened down to eerie silence; the wolf collapsed in agonising grief, feeling his numb, frigid insides being smashed to smithereens.

In a rush of adrenaline and the feral instinct that came with a vampire to kill at hand, the four wolves decimated the lone creature, ripping and shredding him with a savage strength that stemmed from the pain of loss they felt in their brother's mind. Making quick work of burning the torn, mutilated pieces, Victor hobbled on broken yet rapidly healing paws to where the grieving wolf had draped himself sadly over his dead imprint, nuzzling her hair and licking her wounds.

Victor whined to get his attention, and the broken wolf snapped loudly at him just as a vivid image flashed in their heads. Victor finally saw what had actually happened. He saw, through the other wolf's mind, his massive wolf form flying at the vampire. He saw the vampire's cold, crimson eyes narrow in calculation, noticing the blind fury of the advancing wolf and the other wolf who stood immobile. He saw the vampire decide quickly as he hurled the screaming woman to the side. He saw the woman's airborne body slam into a tree and heard the audible crunch of her ribs and the ominous crack in her skull. He saw the woman's eyes close, heard her heart flicker out, and smelt the fresh blood oozing out of her head.

He saw all of this in the crushed, howling wolf's head.

He had done it, Victor thought. He had killed the woman dear to his heart who had been even dearer to his pack member's heart. If he had only circled the vampire. If he had only delayed him. If he had only not jumped thoughtlessly. It was all a matter of  _ifs_.

Through the haze of pain and loss and grief, the heartbroken wolf picked himself up with a steely resolve. The visions of his dead imprint flashed on and off as he approached his Alpha, the one he now blamed for the death of his love. He pulled himself up, as tall as he could be, cocked his ears up straight and erect, and bared his teeth; a series of loud growls thundered from behind the razor sharp teeth. Victor felt his body move of its own accord, the animal in him forcing his hair to stick up and his jowls to pull back over his teeth. The beast within Victor forced him to forget that it was his friend who was challenging him.

To the death.

All Victor knew by instinct was that he had to fight the wolf that was challenging his authority as Alpha.

The other three wolves – who to this day would be known to be the only members of the Quileute wolf pack in their time – tried in vain to stop the two warring wolves, but there was an unwritten rule of Nature that prevented them from interfering further. If imprints died at the hands of another wolf, there would be a fight to the death.

So Ephraim, Quil, and Levi could just watch helplessly and horrified as the Earth shook beneath their paws while Victor exerted his instinctual dominance. A final blow to the smaller wolf's head proved fatal, and he dropped like a fly beneath the Alpha, who stood heaving, towering over his dead, broken body.

The savage hold on his senses slipped as easily as it had taken control, and Victor dropped to his knees in shock as he realised what he had done. He had killed his pack brother and his brother's imprint all in one day, without any control of his emotions.

With one desperate look at his remaining pack members, who lay whining and scratching the ground nervously with their claws, Victor lifted his magnificent head up and his long, sad howl filled the air and the gaping holes the deaths of the two lovers had left behind in his head and heart.

Three melancholy howls joined their Alpha's; never had the pack gone through so much loss and pain in such a short span of time.

While Victor's chest vibrated as he howled in dismay, a plan came to mind—a plan that he thought was a fitting punishment, yet Victor thought there wasn't any way he could ever _begin_  the path to redemption.

He bowed his head and gave one last nudge to the lifeless body of his spirit brother. The air grew silent as the three wolves stopped howling and looked at their Alpha in sympathy. They knew it wasn't Victor's fault; as observers, they were somewhat removed from the guilt that twisted the circumstances as they had transpired.

They silently watched Victor as he straightened the crooked, bent limbs of the dead couple, wiped the blood off the woman's face, and frantically dug a large hole using his giant paws. Slowly, the other three wolves joined Victor, and together, the four wolves dug a grave and lowered the bodies.

Victor did not allow the others to place the mud back for the burial. As he swiped paw after paw of mud back over the bodies, he thought over his plan, strengthening his resolve to carry it out. After patting the last handful of mud into place, Victor touched his nose to the slight bump in the ground. Ephraim, Quil, and Levi memorised the vision of a single large tear falling from their Alpha's large compassionate brown eye and disappearing within the dark mud almost instantly.

Victor limped over to Ephraim, the one friend who he thought would understand why he had to do what he was about to do. Ephraim flattened his ears in subservience, but a low admonishing growl slipped from Victor's throat. With his great muzzle, Victor pushed Ephraim up gently till he was at his full height. He touched his nose to Ephraim's, and the sky crackled with invisible electricity. Dominion was handed over; Ephraim was now the rightful Alpha.

As Levi and Quil's surprised yelps echoed in the trees, Victor, as a last act as Alpha in spite of handing his authority over, looked over at the tops of the huts and cottages of his homeland and belted out perhaps the only command as Alpha he had given through the span of his years at La Push.

_This unfortunate incident is never to be spoken of. Think of the children who look up to us to be role models. The story, however, is not to be lost in the quagmires of time. Both I, Victor, as the previous Alpha, and Ephraim, as the true Alpha now, will make sure it stays within the family, handing it down from son to son._

_I'm truly sorry_ , Victor added as an afterthought.

Several people back in their homes in La Push shivered by this unconscious thought, but returned regardless to their activities, brushing it off as nothing.

Victor nuzzled the other two wolves' ears affectionately and turned away without ever looking back.

By nightfall, Victor had moved out of La Push, his young wife tagging along despite his refusal to let her suffer for  _his_  sins.

He had banished himself, never allowing himself to return to the land he was born to lead.

Years later, his descendant, Aurora, the first girl to be born in his lineage, would return to her homeland. Under unfortunate circumstances.

 


	2. Die as we live

**_CHAPTER 1_ **

**_DIE AS WE LIVE_ **

His huge, grubby paw came down carelessly, and the brown hare dropped like a fly; the smell of its seconds old blood stinging his nostrils reminded Jacob of the value of life. He puffed a wisp of air and nudged the little animal, scraping the fur off its side mistakenly, then growled loudly in regret. The feral sound was picked up by the wind sending the tiny animals of the forest to scatter in fear. He mourned for the dead hare, but more than anything, he mourned the impending loss of a more important life, a life that had tethered him to the teetering edges of sanity, protecting him from the madness that was his world: Bella's life.

And if it weren't for Bella's choice to plunge headfirst into a world of lunacy, he would've been home with his brothers and his father. Life trumps everything. That's what Jacob had thought, and therefore he could not understand her idiotic choice to  _marry_ into that life.

_Life trumps everything._

For weeks now, Jacob had run constantly as a wolf through the forest that went on for hundreds of miles, stopping only when the pangs of hunger forced him – against his better judgement – to bring down unsuspecting deer and the occasional carnivore. It tore at his heart to kill another animal and to feel its heart beat uncontrollably as its innocent eyes caught the sight of his horrifying form. It was torture, although he never considered it to be greater than what Bella had done and was  _continuing_  to do to him. The instinct to snap the beast's neck would control him, and everything would blur around him until he finally found a dead, limp, poor animal under his paws. And even as his lethal teeth dug into the warm flesh, Jacob would think of Bella.

He definitely loved her. So much he felt he would suffocate. But it was the idea, really, of Bella  _willing_  to enter thoughtlessly into a life of eternal damnation for  _another man_  – a fact that angered him beyond anything he could put in words – that brought forth a more intense feeling... somehow more potent. He thought it was his love for Bella, his affection and adoration for the insecure, kind girl, but everyone except Jacob knew it was the overpowering hold of the hero complex. He was born to protect, and here was a girl – the love of his life, no doubt – whom he could not save. Even if he did  _try_... to save her, that is… she would be unhappy.

All these conflicting emotions jumbled together like a massive hair plug in his head and he kept trying to convince himself that it was simply love.

* * *

The man with the long, greying hair that swept across his waist magnificently traced one callused finger lightly along the outline of the birthmark on his young daughter's right wrist. He murmured to her that they could see a woman's face if they stared at the discoloured patch long enough. He sensed his daughter's impatience as he whipped the sleeve of his shirt back to place his own wrist alongside hers. The daughter's startlingly beautiful eyes did the familiar flick between the identical marks but she showed neither concern nor curiosity in the story behind it as her father's fingers traced it on his wrist.

"She is there to remind us of what our ancestor did, Aurora... something  _he_  could never atone for," the man said, cracking a smile to ease the tension that showed on his daughter's face. She had heard it her whole life.

She jerked her hand away, glancing sideways in regret to catch the disappointed look on her father's face. Instead he stared at his wrist intently, oblivious of the rolled up sleeping bags that lay by his side, of the old green Ford truck that was parked diagonally across the site he deemed fit to camp out for the night, of his unstable and inebriated wife stumbling to a folding chair, of his daughter – she'd without a doubt grown up to be a most exquisite woman – who grumbled inaudibly. He didn't notice her shift uneasily as though she'd rather be someplace else, and so he continued on.

"Just beneath this...," he whispered dramatically, tapping the mark, "...is blood. The vessel that carries your legacy... _our_  legacy. It resides in your veins, Ro. Now—"

"It is my duty to carry the legacy on. I get it. The Chosen One and all that bullshit," Aurora hissed, tiny drops of spittle flying unseen from her lips as her eyes rolled in the familiar act of teenage rebellion. Her hands were outstretched before her while she squatted on the ground; the long, slender fingers inherited from her mother – who currently lay sprawled lazily on a folding chair in an intoxicated stupor – bunched the different-sized twigs on the ground.

Dirt slid easily into her fingernails, and she might have cared more if it were not for the imposing yet gentle man sitting cross legged on the ground, watching his daughter as though she were a prodigious child would have commanded. It irked her because she was nothing; merely the daughter of a frugal couple living in obscurity, far enough on the outskirts of the Makah reservation to discourage any nosy neighbours with good intentions.

A million questions plagued her and it was all Aurora could do to bite down on her tongue, a sharp pain lancing through the wet muscle before she could flood her parents with a deluge of the very same questions she had asked them on several occasions in the past. She was always met with the same answer:  _never forget what runs in you._

She could run away. It was a thought that ran through her head like a persistent marquee, sometimes causing her to sleep with a pillow pressed over her head. The pillow had served to muffle the drunken cries of her mother and the calm, almost foolish pleas of her father that followed, but never had it ever held the haunting vision of her  _inheritance_  at bay. Everywhere she moved, she heard her father's raspy voice painting pictures of a time long gone—of spirits, of wolves, of blood drinkers, of pack loyalty, of inopportune murders, of self-imposed exile, and of the legacy that ran undiluted in her blood.

"If I'm a fucking warrior princess, why do we live in this hell hole?" she had screamed, stepping callously – an act she regretted to this day – over the body of her unconscious mother who lay in a pool of her own vomit. She had then stomped her way to the door, catching a glimpse of her face in the blackened mirror that hung on the blue wall.

She had seen, even in that infinitesimal moment, what her father had talked about. The true natural heir. Startling raven coloured eyes had blinked back, the same pair that had her father crying with mirth during her birth in the dingy health centre. They alighted on the luxurious black hair that framed her face, on the long eyelashes, on the fullness of her bow-shaped lips, and on the unmistakable glow of raw power beneath her skin that forced every man to gape then look away in intimidation. It  _was_  an infinitesimal moment, no doubt, as she had shaken her head like a dog to dispel any sense of self-worth that invariably crept into her thinking. It was always easier to hate herself.

After cocking her head, shaking a few strands of hair loose from her ponytail in the process, she assessed her work and crawled on all fours to where her father sat with a pensive look on his lined face. She flicked his long, open hair behind his shoulders with her fingers and dug into the pocket of his plaid shirt for his lighter. He smiled indulgently, watching her as she lit a dry twig and threw it carefully into the pile of old, rotting logs he had laboriously cut earlier in the day.

The sky had turned an inky blue, and it was this moment – when birds returned to their homes in the trees, the wind aiding their excited titters – that Aurora had come to associate with her mother's attentions, or  _lack_   _thereof_.

On a day as normal as could be for this family of three, with the sound of the waves crashing against the shore that stood a little less than a few hundred metres from the house, her mother would collapse on a squashy armchair and bleat to Aurora for a beer. And even now, the woman with the long hair and vacant eyes called out to her only child. Aurora gritted her teeth, her face tightening threateningly, painting a picture of unbridled anger that didn't escape her father's attention.

He lifted himself up, albeit clumsily on account of his age, closing the distance to his wife while swatting away Aurora's impatient hand.

"Ro, put the radio on. We could do with a little distraction." Her father nodded to her, picking up her mother to a standing position with a grunt, and swung the keys to his truck to Aurora. Aurora's hands moved of their own volition, and her fingers closed around the flying keys mid air, causing a jolt of surprise to shock her body. Her reflexes had occasionally been a cause of concern, often slipping unceremoniously on wet rocky outcrops when she helped her father with his whale watching or dropping the occasional dish at home. Her agility was new, and it unnerved her.

She chanced a fleeting look at her parents to confirm this new development, but they hadn't noticed. Her mother wasn't  _yet_ completely immobile. Her hands were clutched around her husband's neck, and their bodies swayed to invisible music.

That was how they had met. Dancing. She was seventeen; he was twenty-one. He was charming and handsome, always armed with a disarming smile and a quick wink. The moment he asked her to dance at the bar on the highway where they had first met, she had fallen hopelessly in love with him. Soon, they started dating, and she found herself making unwarranted trips to the outskirts of La Push to see him every opportunity she got. He had been a refreshing change from her dreary, abusive home with Quileute parents who lived on checks from the government only to fund their drug addiction. He showed her the idea of something that had then  _seemed_ like a better, freer life. On the night of her high school graduation, after scribbling a note that had said, "Don't even bother," and taping it to the rusty old fridge of her parents' house in La Push, Aurora's mother ran away from her Quileute home to marry him. She never returned―a fact that she had claimed drunkenly to Aurora more times than she could count.

With trembling hands, Aurora climbed into the dusty emerald truck and jammed the keys in. She turned the radio to the first signal it caught. The lilting and soothing tones did nothing to stop her hands from clutching the wheel like talons, feeling that familiar loneliness creep like molten lead over her heart. Watching the middle aged couple dance, she imagined her parents young and in love, and anger seethed within her. She blamed her parents, her father in particular, for their seclusion—something he justified as paying for his ancestor's sins. She never cared to try to understand him or what he said; she only found it extremely unfair that the man got to live with someone he loved. It was extremely hypocritical of him, she had thought, because he found going a day without his wife unbearable, whereas Aurora had never known what it was to be touched—a simple holding of hands, anything actually, because boys her age were really hard to come by where they lived. Her mother's godson had always given her the time of day – which led Aurora to develop what was perhaps the only infatuation she had harboured intensely – but had always stopped short of acknowledging her overtures. The only other boy, a pale faced fisherman's son, who managed to be in the vicinity and catch her attention, never did so much as look her in the eye or talk directly. It had stung initially, being viewed as someone to be feared, but boys refusing to meet her eye in school only carved deeper the scar of loneliness. All of this served to acclimatise her to a life on the outside—always looking in,  _longing_  but never having.

She had tried to find reasons, staring for minutes together in the mirror and searching for a repulsive feature in her face. She had found none, only the most glorious pair of inky black eyes looking back, confused and lonely.

Aurora's head rested heavily against the rubber casing of the wheel, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on her temples. She wasn't always this incensed; at a time she could vaguely remember – like a dream slipping from her memory, like sand through her fingers – she had comforted her mother, soothed her when things got out of control, and  _listened_  to her father's tales. But that was a different time, a time when a simple word or a thought or an image wouldn't set her off like a landmine. Rage gurgled in her veins and images of hot liquid iron bubbling within her with hushed  _floop floop_  sounds ran through her head. If someone opened their mouths, disturbing the air with their words, or made sudden movements, she would imagine the liquid metal turning red hot, making her ears feel like they had been dipped into it.

The deafening sound of crashing metal and glass jolted Aurora up, and the world around her changed to a landscape of flying, glittering pieces of glass. She closed her eyes and brought her hands up to her face. Various points there prickled with pain, glass embedded easily into her soft cheeks. Adrenaline flowed through her body, and she rubbed her face frantically to shake the shrapnel off.

Then Aurora looked up to where the bloody face of a woman lay before the steering wheel, caught on a jagged piece of the broken car window, her eyes lifeless, vacant, and staring. Aurora's blood chilled instantly when her eyes caught the shattered pieces of the familiar whalebone necklace. She opened her mouth and waited for the blood-curdling scream to escape her throat, but it was like willing a crocodile to shed tears. Her hands shook violently as she took in the twisted body of her mother wrapped like a bloody, mangled pretzel around the window. Aurora's heart imploded as she scratched at her own throat, drawing blood as she tried to make noise, but she remained mute while everything around her burst with the cruellest of sounds.

A strangled scream caught her attention as she looked over her mother's bent, dead arm at her father, who was slammed against a tree by the largest man Aurora had ever seen. His mouth was latched onto her father's neck and his hands, pale white and glistening in the light of the dying fire, were warping her father's arms behind him. The sheer strength of the eerie big man or the fact that he seemed to drink her father's blood did not register in the slightest bit; Aurora's eyes zoomed in on the look of sheer agony on her beloved father's face, and that was the breaking point for her.

Fury like she'd never felt before rose like flames of an avenging fire, and the anger moved her body involuntarily. She crawled through the broken windshield; the sharp, broken edges lacerated her thighs as she carefully pushed her mother's arm off the truck. Aurora shuddered at the dead chill that emanated from the very same arm that had once brushed her hair and tucked her to bed as a little girl. She slipped down the hood, and though it was only a matter of seconds before she ran to try to save her father, it felt like the longest moment of her life.

Blood pounded into her head, furiously aiding her brain in devising every method of torture she could inflict on this hideous beast that was killing her father. The sound of her heart beat thumped in her head; it sounded like the noise of a beast galloping. The sound seemed to fill her up like the songs of the whale her father loved so dearly. The end of every nerve in her body sparked at the sound, and for a fleeting moment, Aurora thought it was her own heart that was on its last legs, terribly saddened by the tragedy unfolding before her eyes. Why wasn't the big creature killing her? Surely she deserved to die after all the hateful things she'd thought about the only family she had in this lonely world.

Aurora's voice still refused to cooperate, and it seemed the world was conspiring against her. Horrible, terrifying sounds crackled through the otherwise quiet forest; the sound of galloping and that of her father's wheezes as the blood drinker feasted on him hammered her skull as she launched herself on the fiend. As if it knew what she was going to do, a brutishly strong, cold hand lazily whipped behind its back to push her away. She flew a few feet off the ground, careening towards the bumper of the truck. Lights popped in her head brightly as pain unlike anything she had ever felt sliced through her body.  _Pain. Pain. Pain._  She was the living embodiment of hurt and grief and loss and...

Wrath.

The searing burn spreading through her body would not stop her, and she screamed internally as the hurtling sound of a wild beast rang clearer in her muddled head. She opened her eyes through the blinding film of hurt, and the creature was gone. The sound of leaves being ripped aside and the earth being shaken under her feet aided the anger. She was going to welcome the monster again, fight him with everything she had till her death...or its. She was going to fight for everything her father had believed in. The Cold Ones...it was absurd, but the proof had been in front of her eyes.

Aurora pushed herself up to stand, biting down on her tongue and drawing blood in an effort to ignore the torn muscles and the shattered bones in her body that cried in protest. The fury continued to burn brightly. There was no time to mourn, not when her desire for the creature's death consumed her whole.

Suddenly the forest trembled as an ear-splitting growl from the gargantuan wolf rocked the air as it soared into the clearing.

Like a key clicking into its place in a lock, the wheels in her head turned swiftly, forming conclusions…it was the Spirit Wolf. Her father had been right all along. And now the man close to her heart lay cold and bloodless, reduced to nothing. A nonentity. A shell of a body.

The wolf paused abruptly when he caught Aurora's eye. He turned to face her, his magnificent head bowed down to her eye level. His fur was a deep reddish brown, reminding her of red clay, matted into clumps and sweeping the ground. The wolf seemed unaware of the two dead parents that lay about or that a blood drinker, his sworn enemy, was now getting away unscathed and sated. He only saw Aurora.

And Aurora only saw him.

The wolf sighed in a very  _human_  gesticulation, and Aurora felt the anger easily slip from her body. Any hurt, anger, or resentment that had gutted her since the tragedy disappeared when the great wolf transformed in front of her into a man. Fur receded, the snout shortened, the spine straightened, and her legacy acknowledged his.

* * *

This wasn't imprinting. That was the design for the weaker wolves...to concentrate their weak bloodlines, if he may put it lightly. Jacob wasn't weak. He was far from it.

He was powerful. He was supreme. And the Alpha wolf inside him bowed down to an  _equivalent_  power that stood before him in the form of a heartbreakingly beautiful girl. With the striking, piercing midnight eyes. With the long, glorious, raven hair. With the beauty that only comes with power.

Of course, he didn't know this. But Nature knew.

_The girl_ , he sighed. With blood streaking her face and her slender, magnificent throat. With the broken ribs. With the twisted ankle. Who slumped to the ground in shock.

After sixty-one days of animal-hood, Jacob became a human. Finally.

* * *

Even in the flurry of activity in Jacob's tiny bedroom – Emily bustling to clean the dried blood off the unconscious girl's face, Sue barking orders for everyone to clear out, and Sam peering cautiously over their heads and bending his head down every now and then to whisper in hushed tones to Billy – Jacob couldn't stop thinking how beautiful the girl was, even in catatonia.

Jacob's mud-splattered hand hovered over the girl's slim throat, his nerves tingling as he traced the beginning of the long gouges carved by her own nails. In the haze of the sickeningly sweet smell of the vampire and the mortifying sounds of her father being drained slowly of his blood, Jacob had heard her heart beat loudly, threatening to rise to a fever pitch and eventually give out. And as the wolf inside him purred in unfamiliar recognition to the sound of her arrhythmic heart then, Jacob felt calm washing down his heart in response to her now steady heart beat.

Assessing the position of every person in the cramped room with his heightened senses, Jacob thought it fit enough to pull the zipper of the girl's jacket down discretely; not because of sexual craving, but because he had heard the sound of skin  _knitting_   _together_  at a crawling pace. He thought he  _imagined_  the knitting sound, imagined the blood vessels sealing themselves up and imagined her body whirring to bring it back to equilibrium. It was bizarre, but his hand thought otherwise as it shakily brought the zipper down to reveal a smooth, unmarked chest above the faded green tank top.

Jacob swallowed a gasp as the gouges now resembled silvery, pink lines of scars on the girl's throat. He wished to lift his hand below her top to check if the small bumps indicating her protruding, broken ribs had flattened, but there were just too many people around him. Slipping his hand underneath the unconscious girl's shirt would seem highly inappropriate.

"You know, I can take care of her myself. You can leave," Jacob said, turning around to face them. He had hoped to sound grateful for their presence and that it wasn't really required, but there was a certain finality in his tone, unbeknownst to Jacob, that closed any further lines of communication, be it refusal or an offer to help. Sue and Emily found themselves nodding despite the awkwardness of the situation, where they would otherwise believe a sixteen year old boy had not an idea in the world to take care of a victim such as the girl. But they left nonetheless, filing out silently, Sam and Billy in their wake. Billy nodded contently at Jacob, the small, beatific smile on his face a celebration of sorts of his son taking charge of the situation.

Jacob watched the girl's chest rise slowly with each breath, her legs sticking outside the bed slightly, causing Jacob to wonder how he had fit into such a small bed mere months ago. The room itself seemed dwarfed as Jacob banged his knees on the edge of the bed while he knelt down near her face.

The girl jerked awake. Her eyelids flickered open revealing the same sparkling, dark eyes Jacob remembered looking into for the first time, feeling his heart drop down to his stomach. But before Jacob could straighten up and extend any form of greeting, a loud scream rent the air.

With surprising agility for a person who had slipped into an unconscious state, the girl sprang up. Her bare feet sank into the lumpy mattress of Jacob's bed, and she wielded the old bedside lamp like a sword in her trembling hands. Jacob extended his hands in front of him slightly, lifting his head up a few degrees to meet hers, brushing the ceiling. The girl's eyes swooped from corner to corner swiftly, and Jacob felt as if he could  _hear_  the wheels turning in her head as she looked for the closest exit. Jacob knew the closest was the broken window right behind her, but he focused his eyes on hers, ignoring the burning sensation spreading through his face at the intensity of the pain that shone in hers.

He moved closer, but another louder, and possibly eardrum-shattering, shriek escaped her lips. The lamp whooshed closer to his head, so Jacob stepped back in fear of the girl hurting herself in the effort of trying to ward him off. It was the wrong moment, but Jacob stopped for a fleeting second to admire the girl's natural ability to look stunning, close to breaking a million hearts even, when she was wracked with a kind of grief that Jacob thought no one should ever have to suffer. Long strands of hair fell across her face as she whipped her head side to side to look for the exit that she never seemed to find. The sounds of feet shuffling and a scuffle came from the living room, accompanied by Billy reassuring someone, "Jacob can take this. Let him do this."

"Jacob, you okay in there?" Billy called out over the girl's renewed screams. Jacob yelled out a "Yeah, ow" while his eyes closed in the loudness of her screams. The shrill shrieks rang in his head, ricocheting off corners in his brain he never knew he had, but he allowed her to continue. He felt he knew what she was feeling and what she wanted to do. The shimmering, fading scars on her vibrating throat told him she had failed to scream, failed to even make a small sound as she watched her parents die, scratching her neck out to elicit any vibration, any sound at all.

The girl was smart; she screamed and screamed like a banshee, her decibel levels dropping now and then to let air in as she continued to look around. With her mouth still open in a scream, she flung the lamp in Jacob's face and began to scramble out the window.

Through the rain of glass and wood shattering on his tough, resistant face, Jacob's hands blindly grabbed the retreating form of the girl. He shook his head wildly to clear his vision and jumped on the bed on his knees, pulling the girl into his arms and holding her effortlessly as her legs dangled in the air.

The air suddenly seemed still, and Jacob felt a muted ringing in his head even as the girl flailed in his arms  _soundlessly._

"I'm Jacob," he murmured in her ear. Miraculously she stopped moving, her arms flopping to her sides and swaying as Jacob heaved himself into a less awkward position, as her legs had been draped over the window crookedly and his knees were digging into the mattress.

Sam rushed to the door to see what the commotion was all about. He shook his head disbelievingly at Jacob holding the girl tightly to his bare, mud-splattered chest. Sam resisted the urge to rub his eyes in incredulity as the girl's slender arms returned the embrace involuntarily. The sudden, almost intangible rise in panic in the girl's eyes convinced Sam that her reaction was just as bizarre to her as it was to him. The rest of the pack members, who now stood behind Sam, craned around and over his broad shoulders to watch the weird couple.

"We heard screaming so we came running. And we see Jake macking on the chick... nice, I guess. Jake's got some skills," Jared whispered, a wide, confused grin splitting his face.

"Shut up, Jared," Jacob hissed, now swaying slightly in the intensity of the hug. He gave them a deathly glare and all of them, including Sam, went away.

"You have a name?" she whispered, twisting her neck up to look at his face as he sat her up, resting her back against the wall. As he slipped his fingers away from her, they brushed her wrist; the increase in the girl's heart rate resonated within his head while her eyes widened at some kind of realisation.

"I guess everybody has a name," Jacob said, sitting in front of her and straightening her legs out into his lap. He lifted the mud-encrusted end of her jeans up to look at her ankle. He had noticed her left leg buckle under the pressure of her weight as she had tried to climb out of the window. If he wasn't mistaken, he was sure the twisted ankle had healed wrongly.

"You must have a name too, right?" Jacob smiled slightly as he traced the reducing swelling under the soft skin of her ankle. Her healing, twice as fast as that of a normal person, should have shocked him, made him doubt her  _origins_  or at the very least, interrogate her. But everything about her was extraordinary—the brilliant black eyes, the long dark hair, and the way she made him feel like an enormous mass of goop with one soul-piercing look.  _Everything_. Accelerated healing was the least of his worries, but he could see how it would raise a few eyebrows—especially Sam's thick ones.

Just as he had expected, the girl gasped softly at his warm touch. She retracted her foot from his massaging hands, pulling her legs to her chest and hugging them close.

"Human?" she asked, as though she highly doubted his humanity.

"I try, I guess," Jacob replied, watching the girl roll her jeans down and dusting the dirt from them. Her eyes sparkled with doubt; Jacob had a nagging feeling she thought he was an apparition, that he was the result of her going crazy. After all, she had seen her parents being killed by a vampire—not something that happened on a day-to-day basis, Jacob mused caustically.

Jacob looked her fully in the face. Her face glowed, light reflecting off the curve of her cheek. Her skin was the perfect shade of copper, the same as his, and he wanted to feel its softness on his fingertips. Her eyes were almond-shaped and of the darkest black he could ever imagine.

"What's your name?" Jacob asked, holding his breath. He knew whatever her name was, it was going to be the single most important word in his vocabulary for the rest of his life.

She tore her burning gaze away from her feet, and looked straight into his eyes, causing his entire body to tingle with invisible electricity.

"Aurora," she mumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her lower lips trembled as though she was about to cry, the expression in her eyes tugging at Jacob's heart.

Her eyes shifted to gaze at every part of his face, from his eyes to his nose, his cheeks, his forehead, his mouth, and his chin as though they held the answers for her questions.

"Are you Quileute?" she asked in barely a whisper, scared to hear the answer even though she had already guessed it.

"Yeah," he replied.

"Me too," she said wistfully.

Jacob was slightly surprised, but he maintained his expression neutral as Aurora looked everywhere around the room but his eyes. He reached over to pick up the bottle of water that lay forgotten on the bedside table and handed it to her. The girl kept her head bowed, her long, lustrous hair pushed over one shoulder revealing the curved expanse of her neck, and her fingers rubbed her right wrist. Jacob's eyebrows were slanted down in a frown, remembering his father doing the exact same thing not so long ago, grazing the girl's wrist with his fingers in examination when Jacob had brought her in unconscious. He remembered Billy's eyes darkening in recognition as his thumb swept over and over the skin as if the repetitive motion could wipe something away. Jacob had chosen to ignore it, seeing the girl's safety as first priority, but now she gazed at the blotchy patch of skin worriedly. It would just have to wait for later.

"Does it hurt anywhere?" Jacob asked softly, nudging the bottle into her hands. The girl refused to take it, lifting her defeated head up to him. Never had Jacob seen so much muted pain and grief and loss simmering under one person's expression. The answer to the question was very simple.

She was hurting  _everywhere_.

* * *

Quil would never have thought that a normal, uneventful day of helping Claire build a tower of colourful blocks and going on a round of patrol would turn out to be one of the days in his life he claimed to be unusual.

He had run the usual lap, the worn-out track in the forest floor, waiting for Paul or Jared to join him, his mind invariably on Claire despite the constant hum of Jacob's thoughts whirring through his head. When Jacob ran away for the second time, minutes after being dragged out during Bella's wedding, Quil had tried to run after him. In Quil's opinion, running away figured pretty much on the top of the list of all the hare-brained, unthinking things Jacob had done in his life. It was one thing to run away from home due to rejection, but to run away another time from the pain of having watched the  _cause_  of the rejection getting married was, without a doubt, foolish.

But Quil knew his cousin.

Jacob had always been stubborn and he had continued to hold that trait up, in everyone's opinion, by ignoring his pack brothers' daily pleas to return to La Push. He roamed as a wolf constantly, living off the wildlife in the forest that seemed to be slightly warmer and with differently shaped foliage than the one surrounding La Push.

And on this particularly ordinary day, Quil had noticed the sharp difference of the  _absence_  of Jacob's thoughts at dusk as he ran his rounds. It was only for a few minutes but it had Quil panicking, calling upon Sam and the others to organise a search party. In the minutes that ticked by without the presence of Jacob's thoughts, Quil realised that besides Embry and Sam, no one found it in themselves to worry what could have happened to Jacob. Sam had phased instantly, acknowledging the Jacob-shaped void in their shared minds, doing his duty as the Alpha to make sure every member of his pack was sound and alive.

Quil remembered the collective gasp rippling through the mesh of their consciousness as the sight of the girl stood out in startling detail in Jacob's thoughts as he phased back. It wasn't so much the fact that the girl had watched her parents being sucked dry of all their blood by a leech or the fact that there was something about the girl that caused them to bow their heads down in obeisance  _and_  stare wide-eyed in wonder at the same time. It was the fact that Jacob had imprinted.

Or  _not_ , Quil thought.

It was a  _different_  bond, at moments similar to imprinting, at others miles apart from the phenomenon, but Quil, the others too, knew what Jacob was going to have with this unknown girl. It was  _natural_. That was the only word they could find to describe it.

Quil thought words could never do justice to describe what he saw as he now peeped cautiously inside Jacob's room where Jacob sat holding the girl tightly, smoothing her hair in an effort to calm her down. Quil expected the girl's face to glisten with fat drops of tears that rolled down her blood-streaked cheeks, but her face was  _dry_  yet red with panic, and her breath rattled unevenly and hoarsely in her chest. Quil had seen it before on his mother a few times; they were signs of a receding panic attack.

Jacob turned to face Quil, his chin still resting on top of the girl's head. A whirl of emotions crossed Jacob's face―sadness and happiness vied for first place. Quil had never seen him look so sad and ecstatic at the same time. He figured that Jacob was happier than he had ever been, but in unfortunate circumstances.

Quil raised an eyebrow in question with a look that precisely conveyed, "Dude, what the fuck?"

A small choked sound escaped from the girl's lips and Jacob squeezed her tighter, shushing her softly and rocking her gently. Quil thought it was amazing that the girl had  _let_  Jacob hold her this way; it would take years of knowing and living with a person to share the level of comfort that the girl and Jacob now subconsciously and intrinsically exhibited.

Jacob shrugged flippantly, his mouth stretching reluctantly – for he thought it wasn't the right time; there was just too much grief the girl had to handle – into a smile. Quil repressed a chuckle at his appearance. He looked nothing more than a hobo, only his smile reminding Quil that he was still human and civilised.

"Her name's Aurora," Jacob whispered under his breath so that only Quil could hear him, his face suggesting that he thought it was the most important thing. Quil hiked his hand up in a thumbs up, grinned back at a smiling Jacob, and walked away.

This was definitely a messy affair, Quil thought, one that had Billy pulling various strings at police departments and child services in a single night, using Charlie's help just so the girl would be safe here in La Push. It was impressive but saddening that Billy had hushed up the parents' death as a bear attack, devising plans of making sure it stayed as true as possible to the story he fed to the police. It had involved one very reluctant and diffident pack member to  _mark_  the dead bodies as though they  _really_ had been attacked by a giant wild beast. The pack member was Sam, much to his disgust, who was the only one who had  _offered_  to do so as the rest of them sat swinging their hands awkwardly, looking away and avoiding Billy's questioning, pleading eyes.

The only task that was left at hand was to make sure the girl understood she had to keep the pack's  _secrets_  to herself, and everyone knew it would be a while until she came to her senses and was able to see through the pain of her parents' deaths.

This was  _it_ for Jacob, Quil thought wryly, but it was unfortunate and deplorable that people had to die for him to find that one person who he  _could_ be happy with one day. That day seemed far in the future, even improbable, but that's just what life was all about. Waiting and wanting.

Life now might have seemed like a steaming warm pile of dung handed to Jacob's bare hands, but Quil was just glad he had his best friend and cousin back. Nothing could beat that.


	3. The 'who' we live for

_**CHAPTER 2** _

_**THE 'WHO' WE LIVE FOR** _

Aurora stared up at the ceiling, her eyes refusing to brim with tears, as she cocked her head to look at the years-old spit balls stuck to the peeling paint of Jacob's room. She threw the covers off of her, choosing instead to lay spread-eagle on the small, lumpy bed, with her right hand hanging off the side. It was easier when the birthmark was out of her line of vision.

The sound of a shower running on the other side of the wall broke through the fading screams of her dying father that played over and over in her head like a stuck record. She turned herself to the side and looked down at the jumble of thin sheets and a knobby pillow strewn on the small area of floor beside her bed.

A few hours earlier, when the first rays of morning light had filtered in through the window and hit her eyelids, Aurora had woken up to a cold, clammy sensation on her back. Panic began to rise just like the day before and Aurora looked around for the man who had comforted her and fed her food and water. She turned and found Jacob sleeping on the cramped floor; the sheets were a tangled mess near his feet and his head was slipping off the pillow. Aurora watched him for a while, trying to understand who he was as a person and why his closeness seemed to affect her strangely.

Watching his messy hair fall across his face, his mouth open in a loud snore, and his perfectly sculpted bare chest, Aurora wondered how the great shaggy wolf had turned into this person, who looked so human, so friendly, and so harmless. When Jacob shifted in his sleep, Aurora scurried from the room, tripped over his large feet, and stumbled into the bathroom. Locking the door from the inside, Aurora approached the mirror, trying to ignore the nagging, dull pain every time she stepped on her left foot.

Her eyes still held their bewitching quality, but she could see the pain in their depths. She peered closely, waiting for her eyes to become bleary with tears but was surprised when minutes later, they were still dry.

She peeled her clothes off, and then stood over the sink in her underwear, shivering in the sting of the cool dawn air. She cleaned the red splotches – her mother's blood – under the cold running water. Red-tinged water flowed as she scrubbed her clothes with the soap she found in the cabinet. Aurora's stomach twisted suddenly, forcing her to flip the toilet seat up with a bang, and spew the food she had been made to eat last night. Her heart felt like it was being wrung with an iron fist; the last time she had vomited, her father had held her 9 year-old hair, rubbing her back gently and murmuring comforting words over her. Aurora had never felt  _this_ alone.

After the painful effort of lifting her hand up to pull the flush, she lay down on the cold, tiled floor, pulled her legs up to her chest, and curled up in a foetal position. She clutched her hair tightly, pulling and yanking hard to elicit a few tears from her eyes. None flowed.

When Aurora heard Billy's wheelchair squeak past the bathroom door, she straightened up, dragged herself to the shower, and turned it on with trembling, blood-streaked hands.

Picking up the soap, she scrubbed herself raw, wiping her eyes every now and then, and tasting her fingers to see if they were the salt of her tears. She only tasted the sweet, mineral taste of the shower water. After washing out all traces of dirt from her hair, Aurora stepped out of the shower.

The cold air of the bathroom raised goose bumps on her bare, wet skin as she leaned her head against the tiled wall. She waited there for her clothes to dry, but when she began to feel the walls of the bathroom close in on her, Aurora pulled on the damp clothes, their cold, clammy feel contrasting strangely against the burning in her chest, and shook out her equally damp hair. She walked out of the bathroom and into the tiny room, taking extra care not to step on Jacob, whose snores had reached a deafening level. She tucked herself in again and fell asleep.

Aurora woke up to the sounds of a door slamming.

Jacob was nowhere to be seen.

Aurora felt like a migratory bird, feeling a strange homing instinct to get out of bed to look for something. She didn't know what it was, but she just  _had_ to get out of bed. She swung her legs off the bed and slowly padded down the hallway. The sound of scissors snipping and running water reached her ears. She stopped involuntarily at the open bathroom door.

A toothbrush dangled from Jacob's foamy lips as he looked at himself in the mirror, twisting his head sideways to cut the last lock of long hair with a pair of scissors. Aurora's eyes travelled down where several clumps of wet hair had fallen to the floor. Inclining her head just the slightest bit, she found herself tracing his sinewy bare legs with her eyes and up the large blue towel tucked around his waist. The slight curve of his ass was barely visible above the towel, and Aurora noted that he looked infinitely cleaner than yesterday.

"Hey." Jacob's baritone voice made her snap her head up to his face. Aurora stumbled back. She braced herself against the wall as Jacob turned to her slightly, the toothbrush perched precariously in his foam-ridden wide smile. His  _smile_.

It warmed her up faster than she could think, and all she could do was to stare back at him, words refusing to form in her head and sad thoughts refusing even more to plague her mind. This was  _wrong_. She wasn't supposed to feel warm or safe. She had lost everything. That definitely warranted a period of mourning.

"Sleep okay?" Jacob asked, his voice muffled by the toothbrush. He turned back into the mirror and ruffled his extremely short hair. Aurora felt another tug just below her navel, a pleasurable squirm, as he looked back at her with another dazzling smile.

_Smile,_ _Aurora._

No. There was no way she could ever do it. Her legs moved involuntarily, her rib cage seemed to close in on her lungs, constricting them, and she gasped loudly to allow more air in. Nothing was supposed to be normal. Nothing was supposed to make her smile. How could she when the last thing she thought about her parents was how much she hated her life with them? It was wrong to smile. Most of all, it was wrong to look at a man and feel this way.

Aurora heard the man in the wheelchair say, "There's breakfast." She glided past him, past the homely kitchen with heavenly smells that made her stomach rumble hungrily, past the front door, and past the front yard. Aurora felt the world spin fast around her, and she collapsed, hitting the hard ground, the smell of the sparse grass on the ground filling her nostrils. With unsteady fingers, she removed her jacket, threw it aside carelessly, and took deep breaths to calm down.

When the ground seemed to stop undulating before her eyes and the trees ahead didn't seem to jiggle as much, Aurora sat upright, crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap. The weight of everything her father had told her hit her like a freight train, but her mind rejected it.

"Aurora?" His voice sounded concerned. She jumped backwards in shock, almost somersaulting over herself as she wriggled away from Jacob. He crouched down, holding her jacket in his hands, his deep brown eyes furrowed in concern. He was completely dressed, a thin blue T shirt stretched over the ridges of his muscles, and a pair of shorts just about hanging on his hips. Aurora shivered at the sight of the muscles on his arm dancing as he pushed the jacket into her arms.

"You must be cold," he whispered as he bent closer and draped the jacket over her shoulders. The tips of his fingers brushed against the skin of her bare arms. Jacob looked over her head and Aurora saw him nod imperceptibly. She whipped her head around and saw the man, possibly his father, watching from the open front door.

"You're burning up. C'mon let's get inside." Jacob nudged her elbow, his tone suggesting that he was greatly worried by her temperature. She slapped a hand up to her forehead and frowned when she realised he was right.

Jacob smiled and Aurora's stomach twisted again, much to her annoyance. She started shaking her head slowly, dispelling the warm, glowing sensation that was slowly spreading from her chest. It was just wrong. She shouldn't be feeling like this. Heart skipping a beat, mouth dry, sweating hands...

"Whoa. Wait up," Jacob yelled as she sprinted unsteadily into the trees, her long hair flying behind her. Aurora ignored the stones and dry twigs poking and lacerating her bare feet. The pain was nothing compared to the pounding in her head—the low rasp of her father, the soft slurring tone of her mother, the sound of glass shattering and the crackling growl of the wolf, of Jacob, rang inside her head over and over and over and over...

Adrenaline flowed through her system, sending her legs pumping and her chest thumping. Aurora could now focus on the clean, unpolluted air of the forest, the uneven  _thwack_  of her running feet synchronising strangely with another set of running feet that were steady and strong. She turned her head to the side slightly, seeing Jacob running effortlessly alongside her. He turned to her and smiled encouragingly.

_Damn_ _it._

Her sore left foot gave way, and Aurora tripped, crashing to the forest floor, bumping her shoulder against a rotting tree stump. Bolts of dull pain shot erratically through her crooked ankle, and she clutched the hurting leg, scrunching her eyes up and crying out softly. Jacob sat down opposite her; through the film of pain, Aurora felt Jacob's searing hands on her shoulders, sitting her up against the stump. His one hand easily enclosed the ankle and Aurora bit down on her tongue to ignore the jolt of pleasure that mixed somewhere confusedly with the dull, throbbing pain.

"Hold still for a while," he murmured, stroking her ankle with his hands. Jacob suppressed a smile when he saw her eyes close in relief at the heat of his hands.

A sharp missile of pain bombarded her ankle, and a loud  _click_ echoed under the canopy of trees.

"Son of a bitch!" Aurora yelled loudly without hesitation, yanking several blades of grass from the ground and pressing them tightly in her hands.

"Only thing you've said all day, Aurora," Jacob said conversationally, his face a perfect specimen of guilt as Aurora flickered her eyes open. He grinned toothily, hoping she wouldn't be angry at him for setting her ankle right.

"What the fuck was that?" she snapped, flexing her foot gingerly to test the pain. Surprisingly, the expected stab of pain never appeared.

"Does it hurt now?" Jacob asked, resuming his massaging strokes on her ankle. Aurora found it strange how he knew exactly what her body needed. Even, for the few seconds that she ran, he ran  _beside_  her, the reassuring smile on his face being the one thing Aurora would come to remember and cherish years later. It had felt  _good_ , despite the irritation, the cavernous pit of loss, the anger, the regret, the guilt, and the resentment, to have Jacob understand why she had to run. And he had run  _with_  her, not  _after_ her...Aurora felt affection take a deep root within her cold, empty, sorrowful heart.

"No. That's...where did you learn to do that?" She looked at him in the eye, feeling courageous for the first time at the locking of their eyes. It didn't go unnoticed by her that he was the first boy who looked  _back_ at her, not a trace of fear or intimidation in his eyes.

Jacob shrugged despite the darkening of his smoothly shaven cheeks at her awe.

"When you run around as much as I do, I guess you just learn."

Aurora nodded, looking away. Staring too  _much_ into his eyes made her realise she wasn't so courageous after all.

"Do you want to try walking now?" Jacob asked, her discarded jacket draped over his shoulder, as he held his hand out for her. Aurora stared at the large, strong hand and the promises it held. She felt she had two options now—either take the hand or run away.

Running away seemed like the  _lonely_ choice. She could jump up, turn tail and run and run and run until her feet bled. Who did she have now? She was an orphan. She had nothing to lose. Literally.

Aurora felt like daggers were being plunged into her heart when she thought of this. She  _really_ had nothing to lose, didn't she? She had to go back to an empty house and wherever she would turn, she would be reminded of her loss. She felt herself being slowly sucked into a vortex of pain. Excruciating mental pain.

_Or_ she could take the hand. It was as easy as placing her palm in Jacob's, letting herself be led to a perhaps brighter, happier life. But what did she know of this Jacob? All she knew was that he had a father in a wheelchair and a smile that momentarily and miraculously made her grief vanish. Was that enough?

Apparently, it  _was_ enough.

"Easy," Jacob murmured close to her as he slipped one hand around her waist to steady her.

_Ignore_ _the_ _hand...the_ other  _hand!_

Trying to take no notice of how close Jacob was, how hot his breath was against the side of her hair, how it ruffled her strands, and how gentle his hands were as they steadied her, Aurora found herself walking perfectly alright. They walked back to his house weaving through the green maze of trees slowly; as the red cottage came closer and closer in sight, Jacob dropped his hands from her waist.

Once inside, Jacob pulled out a chair at the small teak dining table for Aurora before sitting down himself. Aurora paid no attention to his father, who sat watching the news distractedly, his eyes sneaking a peek at the two of them now and then, or to the plate of breakfast turning cold before her. She watched Jacob eat rapidly, stuffing his mouth until his cheeks puffed out, and Aurora felt he ate out of a sense of urgency. Ignoring Jacob's nudges to start eating, Aurora felt her head buzzing with questions—questions so wholly different from when her parents were alive. The death of her parents answered certain questions but she couldn't stop looking for something—was it the truth or just plain old reality? Or were they the same?

She saw Jacob say something to her, the words of which completely missed her attention. He smiled the very same reassuring smile from before, and waved to his father before darting out the door. Aurora looked at Jacob's father, the man with the same robust body as his son if it weren't for the wheelchair, and thought that she did have the questions.

She just wasn't sure if she was ready to start asking.

* * *

It would have been an otherwise beautiful day, Sam thought, if it weren't for that edgy sympathy everyone felt for the girl, seeing second hand through Jacob's thoughts how sad she was. The sky was unusually clear for this time of the year, and even the customary morning nip in the air had let up on the residents of La Push. Yet a gloom hung in the air, and Sam knew it would be a while until it cleared.

He lifted his enormous head up to watch the approaching wolf, his reddish-brown fur gleaming despite the perpetual lack of sunshine. Jacob had cleaned up. For that, Sam was grateful. He cared about Jacob, but more than anything, he was wary of him. He had watched the boy grow like he had pressed the fast forward button, and seen Jacob's arms popping with muscles, his head shooting up until he had to duck under doorways, and his face take on the hard edge that came with being such an  _important_ member of the supernatural world. And now after running away, Jacob had returned, taller, stronger, and more intimidating than ever.

Jacob might not have had the slightest clue but Sam now saw the air of rightful authority that hung about Jacob even as he reached the circle of gigantic wolves, his tongue lolling to the side as though he was happy yet determined about something. Sam thought he saw the air around Jacob vibrate, as though the molecules knew they were surrounding a being of power. It reminded Sam of a hummingbird, its wings beating so fast that it appeared to hover without wings. Maybe there was just that much power in Jacob that it was almost invisible until only Jacob seemed to be gliding on air like a king. Sam felt a prick of irritation flying around his ears like a pesky gnat. If only he could slap the gnat away.

_Dude,_ _you_ _ok?_ Jacob's voice rang loud and clear in their heads. The variously sized and coloured wolves realised it was the first time in two months that Jacob's voice didn't hold the crippling pain of rejection. But even during this seemingly casual question, nobody could ignore the emotions of panic and exhilaration that swirled with the images in his head of darting through the trees into the clearing where he had first seen the girl.

The furry heads swivelled as one to Sam for the question was directed to him.

_Yeah_ , Sam replied curtly. Sam noticed he wasn't at eye level with Jacob anymore; the few degrees by which Sam had to turn upwards to look at Jacob made him want to beat his chest loudly with both hands like a gorilla to display his dominance. He wasn't a gorilla. He was a wolf, Sam reminded himself.

Just as Jacob trotted over to the empty spot in the circle opposite Sam, a flood of different memories rushed up through all of their heads, and there was no denying they were Jacob's. A hazy vision from Jacob's perspective looking down at the unconscious girl's exposed neck, the shimmering pale scars glistening in the setting sun as the gashes had already begun to heal, caused a collective gasp of shock to vibrate through the pack. The girl had healed twice as fast as a human would.

The weight of the discovery hung thickly on the circle of gigantic wolves.

_What_ _is_ _all_ _this?_ Sam asked, momentarily forgetting himself and switching to Alpha command mode. All the wolves except Jacob shuddered internally at the crackling of Sam's annoyance. Jacob merely looked from one to the other; he had no idea why Leah sat rigid and unmoving as a stone, Paul growled low in his throat, and the hackles rose on Sam's back. His giant wolf head was set in a perfect expression of confusion and ignorance.

_This_ _is_ _serious,_ _Jacob_ , Sam snapped at him lightly. Jacob's jowls were poised to stretch back over his dagger-shaped teeth, but he controlled himself better than anyone could.

_I_ _know._ _You_ _didn't_ _see_ _me_ _laughing,_ _did_ _you?_ Jacob thought calmly though his right paw twitched repeatedly in frustration.

_I_ _don't_ _understand._ _She_ _healed_ _so_ _soon?_ Sam asked.

_I_ _don't_ _understand_ _why_ _it's_ _such_ _a_ _big_ _deal,_ _man_. Jacob shook his head like he was shaking off flies.

_I_ _think_ _it's_ _a_ _BIG_ _deal._ _And_ _why_ _are_ _memories_ _just_ _cropping_ _up_ _every_ _second_ _in_ _your_ _head?_ _It's_ _like_ _you're_ _trying_ _to_ _hide_ _them_ _from_ _me._ _You_ _felt_ _her_ _skin._ _She_ _was_ _burning_ _up._ _Doesn't_ _that_ _sound_ _familiar?_  Sam snapped for the second time.

Jacob took a step back, determination evident in his stance because he wasn't going to fight over trivial matters—at least he  _thought_ this was trivial. How much harm would it be for another girl to phase? The question would hold only if she  _did_ phase. Jacob had been in close proximity to Aurora, feeling her hot skin and witnessing her wounds healing, yet she smelt more human than anyone. It was a hunch that she would stay the way she was. Surely, Sam must've seen this thought in Jacob's head. So why and for what was he getting so riled up?

Jacob remembered coaxing Aurora into talking about her life back home as he held and rocked her last evening. It had been an attempt to calm her down - to distract her from the matter at hand - but Aurora had been stingy with the details. The only thing he did come to know was that her parents were Quileute, and it had instantly set off a light bulb in his head. She had the 'gene'...but  _no_ , she wasn't going to phase. He was sure of that.

_If_ _you're_ _saying_ _she's_ _going_ _to_ _phase,_ _I_ _hardly_ _think_ _so._ _I_ _know_ _she's_ _Quileute_ _but_ _I_ _have_ _a_ _feeling_ _she_ _won't,_ _Sam._

_Feeling!_ Sam snorted crazily, creating a white puff of air to appear out of his nostrils. Just then, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions ran through their heads like a speeding train from a point of origin. Leah. All of them could hear Leah laughing nervously; a bubble of hope expanded in her mind at having another girl in the pack. A kindred spirit. Someone who dulled the edge of being the only one of her kind. But did she want this for another girl? And that too, a recently orphaned one? No, she didn't wish it for anyone. If Leah could, she would love to see someone else have a normal life, despite not having one herself because then it reminded her that God wasn't that cruel after all. Thus the conflict raged in her head.

_Calm_ _down,_ _man_. Jared and Paul stepped in front of Sam, blocking Jacob from his vision. Nobody had ever seen Sam, always the cool and collected leader, so aggravated. Paul butted Sam's side with his head to shake him out of the daze; they could clearly see a red haze had formed in Sam's mind, denying him the ability to think clearly and keeping the others from seeing his thoughts. No one knew Sam was bristling at the mere idea of Aurora phasing, or that he had a strange foreboding this would upset his Alpha position.

Sam blinked a few times, the fog in his head slowly thinning out. He saw Embry try to nudge Leah in consolation, but she growled and snapped before he could come closer. Embry gave up and sat a few yards apart from her, his eyes roving over Leah's much smaller wolf form from time to time.

_I_ _think_ _Jacob_ _is_ _right_ , Embry said quietly, piercing the pin drop silence in everybody's consciousness. Sam could see Embry was agreeing more with Leah's wish for Aurora not to phase than with Jacob's hunch.

_Jacob,_ _you_ _said_ _she's_ _Quileute?_  Seth asked tactlessly. A sharp spark went off in their heads, and Sam imagined a circuit being complete—a deduction being made. Could it be?

_Embry's_ _Dad_ _is_ _her_ _fath_ _—_ _?_  Paul asked slowly, the wheels turning in his head, his furry brows joining together in concentration.

_We_ _don't_ _know_ _anything_ _yet._ _It's_ _stupid_ _to_ _just_ _assume_ , Quil hissed, coming to his friend's defence. He shook his large chocolate head at Paul menacingly.

_Just_ _leave_ _it, man_ _._ _Not_ _worth_ _it_ , Jacob chimed in as Quil advanced on Paul, his body shaking with anger. Embry – as always – watched quietly, like the silent spectator he was. But that didn't stop him from speculating himself.

_ENOUGH_ , Sam's voice thundered.

Leah stopped shaking. Quil stopped in his tracks and pulled back his snarl. Paul settled in between Jared and Sam with his tail tucked demurely between his legs. Embry stopped _thinking._ But Jacob turned around and started to pad away from the pack.

_Jacob._ _Where_ _are_ _you_ _goi_ _—_ _?_

_I_ _have_ _something_ _to_ _do_ , Jacob thought resolutely, continuing to trot away and refusing to look back.

_What_ _is_ _this?_ Sam repeated himself for the second time. He felt steely determination and blood lust form in Jacob's mind.

_Jacob,_ _this_ _is_ _stupid._ _Are_ _you_ _really_ _going_ _to_ _look_ _for_ _the_ _vampire_ _that_ _killed_ _her_ _parents?_ Sam asked, exasperated.

Jacob continued to walk away, his head already deciding on venues he could scour for clues as to the vampire's whereabouts.

_You_ _can't_ _just_ _leave_ _—_

_Shut_ _up,_ _Leah,_ Jared said, his eyes focused intensely on Sam. He looked on as if anticipating a fight.

_Don't_ _tell_ _me_ _to_ _shut_ _up,_ _asswipe._

_Yeah,_ _can_ _it,_ _Jared_ , Embry silently berated him, inching closer to Leah.

_You_ _have_ _ignored_ _your_ _duties_ _to_ _the_ _tribe_ _long_ _enough,_ _Jacob._ _What_ _are_ _you_ _going_ _to_ _do,_ _leave_ _for_ _months_ _just_ _so_ _you_ _can_ _destroy_ one  _vampire?_ Sam thought, staying rooted to his spot as Jacob trotted further and further away.

Everyone felt a stab of anger jabbing through their heads from Jacob.

_I_ _know_ _running_ _away_ _was_ _stupid._ _But_ _if_ _I_ _hadn_ _'_ _t,_ _I_ _would_ _never_ _have_ _met..._ _I'm_ _not_ _going_ _to_ _leave_ _for_ _'months_ _'_ _,_ _Sam._ _I_ _can't_ _stay_ _away_ _from_ _her_ _that_ _long_ _and_ _you_ _know_ _it_ _better_ _than_ _I_ _do._ _Just_ _a_ _few_ _hours_ _every_ _day...or_ _more,_ Jacob thought as his parting words.

_This_ _isn't_ _a_ _school_ _field_ _trip._ _I_ _don't_ _doubt_ _your_ _skills,_   _but_ _this_ _is_ _dangerous._ _And_ _not_ _to_ _mention,_ _extremely_ _foolish_ , Sam thought.

_Yeah,_ _bro._ _If_ _the_ _leech_ _ever_ _comes_ _to_ _La_ _Push,_ _we'll_ _rip_ _him_ _a_ _new_ _one._ _I'll_ _make_ _sure_ _of_ _it_ _personally_ , Quil pleaded.

Several rounds of "Yeah" and "Come back, man," rang through Jacob's head.

_I_ _have_ _to_ _do_ _this._ _Period_ , Jacob huffed. The scenery in his head changed to a blur of green leaves and brown wood now that he had broken into a sprint.

_Let_ _him_ _go_ , Embry thought, expressing Leah's tacit concern.

_No,_ _don't_ _do_ _this,_ _Jacob._ Sam tried for the last time with subtle undertones of his command. He was met with silence and just the steady rhythmic thudding of Jacob's enormous paws on the forest floor.

He didn't understand what was happening. Was Jacob not affected by his command? As much as he hated how it sounded, an Alpha's word was law. But Jacob easily slipped from the tight clutches of his order. Before he knew it, the other pack members would run lawless and wanton through the wilderness of La Push. He didn't want to seem tyrannical or autocratic, but he guessed there were costs to be paid when all he did was think about was best for his pack. How  _did_ Jacob escape his decree?

_We're_ _human_ _too,_ Leah interrupted him. Sam looked at her quizzically.

_You_ _expect_ _every thing_ _to_ _happen_ _as_ _though_ _we_ _are_ _wolves._ _You_ _have_ _to_ _remember,_ _we_ _are_ _humans_ _too._ _I_ _think_ _that_ _plays_ _a_ _large_ _part_ _in_ _how_ _our_ _pack_ _runs._ _So_ _sometimes_ _your_ _gag_ _orders_ _don't_ _work...on_ _our_ _human_ _aspect,_ _that_ _is_ , Leah reminded him. Sam nodded reluctantly; the girl had a point.

_Not_ _everything_ _can_ _be_ _controlled_ _by_ _you,_ _Sam_ , Leah added bitingly.

_Aaaand_ _enter_ _Leah_ , Jared quipped. Snarls ripped through the clearing as Embry launched himself on Jared before Leah could crouch to fight.

Sam didn't even bother ordering them to stop. Today was one of those weird, inexplicable days – the day he phased for the first time being at the top of that list – Sam thought wearily, as he shook his head, wondering what in hell had gotten into Embry today.

* * *

Aurora thought the food was dry, despite how good it smelled. Or maybe it was just the burgeoning weight of her recent loss and dawning of the truth that had caused the food to taste chalky, she thought, as she stared at the chair opposite her that had been occupied by Jacob, making her feel as if her mouth was stuffed with cotton.

She heard the creak of the front door closing. Looking up from the plate of food, she saw Billy approach her with a cautious yet reassuring smile on his face. As he drew closer, Aurora could see how much Jacob resembled his father. They had the same broad strong shoulders and the slight crinkling of the big, almond-shaped eyes when they smiled. If it weren't for the ratty old wheelchair, Aurora imagined the man would have been almost as tall as his son, strutting around sturdily and confidently.

But for now he sat with his hands in his lap, appearing unencumbered by being reduced to life in a wheelchair. He waited patiently for her to finish eating, but she dropped her fork with a clatter and looked questioningly at him.

"My parents…"

"We buried them at the burial ground off the coast. We can go together today."

"No!" Aurora choked at the flurry of emotions speeding through her when she thought of her mother and father, eyes closed, face mangled, necks pierced with inch-deep fang marks, sealed in a cold, wooden box.

"I mean, uh...I don't—"

"I understand, Aurora. I didn't want to see my wife for the last time before they lowered her into the ground when she died. I think I preferred remembering her smile as the last thing I saw and knew about her."

Aurora ignored the pang of uneasiness when she heard that Jacob's mother had died, and shook her head. She would have liked to see the smiles on her parents' faces but what did she see? She had seen them die. She didn't have the option of erasing that corrosive memory because every time she closed her eyes, she saw her father's frightened eyes and her mother's dead, vacant ones. She couldn't even remember the last time her mother had been  _sober_ , leave alone being happy and smiling. Self-pity gnawed at her insides, and she hated herself for it.

"You can visit them when you feel the time's right, okay?" he said. Aurora was instantly reminded of her own father and the look of concern and vulnerability he had whenever he saw Aurora saddened by her mother's drunken antics. She realised it was the look all fathers might have had at some point in their life when they knew they wanted to help their child but just didn't know how. Jacob's father looked at her the same way but he was different—he didn't probe further on why she didn't want to see her parents just yet. She was relieved and grateful for his understanding nature.

Aurora tried to convey this as much as she could through her eyes because she didn't trust herself to speak. What if she started crying, though the chances of that happening were very slim because her eyes remained drier than they had ever been? Or worse, what if she ranted and railed at this kind-looking man, and revealed the secret legends her father had passed down to her? She wasn't sure if he was even closely related to any descendent of Ephraim Black.

The man seemed to understand, and the two of them sat in semi-awkward silence as Aurora massaged her temples. Through her moving fingers, she saw his eyes rest on her wrist tentatively and knowingly. She caught his eyes, and she stared at him, her mouth slowly opening in wonder.

The man nodded slowly; Aurora knew he saw the turmoil in her eyes. He stretched his hand out to bring her wrist closer to his face. The man's hand was calloused and rough but his touch was gentle, even sympathetic.

"You know about  _that_?" she whispered, furrowing her brows as he traced his finger along the curve of the woman's nose on her wrist. A foghorn seemed to be blaring in Aurora's head. Her father had done the same thing, watching with the same look of reverence and child-like interest minutes before his death. Aurora had then been scornful and mocking, but there was no denying the truth now. Would it hurt if she finally  _accepted_ it? If she had accepted before, maybe her father would still be alive. But how would that have changed things? What did the vampire know about her inheritance? The thirst for blood would have been his only priority.

"I'm perhaps the only one who knows...besides you, of course," he said, his eyes gleaming with the excitement of having someone to share this long-kept entrusted secret with.

"You're Ephraim's—?"

"Yes. He was my grandfather. And Jacob's my son. I'm Billy Black," he said, pointing to his chest. He seemed elated at Aurora's eyebrows rising higher and higher up her forehead at this new revelation.

"But how did you know I'd have the birthmark? That wasn't until my grandfather was born...and also when my father was born. He guessed that it would run in the family."

"Victor kept in touch with Ephraim more than he liked. He couldn't just walk away and not know what was happening in La Push. He was more bound to this place than anyone could be. My grandfather reasoned that  _this_ ," he said, tapping the wrist again, reminding her painfully of her father, "was some kind of  _identification_  that Nature had fixed. In case, the lineage got lost somewhere in time."

"And he told you this personally?"

Billy nodded ruefully. "He was pretty old at the time—"

"So everything's true? The wolves...Jacob...he...I saw...he was a huge wolf and...and is there anyone else like him?" Aurora stood up, sending the chair back with a screeching scrape. Why was all  _this_ news to her? She had heard it her entire life. Every evening, every holiday, and every weekend, her father had repeated the stories – even those legends before Victor's time – over and over until she could only hiss in irritation, huff in rebuke, and swat him away like a bothersome fly. She hadn't ever believed an ounce of the stories because what was she but a lonely, love-starved girl with an alcoholic of a mother who had no indications of a life that was destined for greatness. She had believed she would continue to live in the dreary dungeon of a house, taking care of her wayward mother and cleaning up after her.

"There are about ten of them now."

Aurora sat down again heavily; she felt overwhelmed to the point where her lungs struggled to expand normally. Jacob wasn't here – where was he anyway? – to calm her with his large presence. She felt that she was already beginning to depend on him. But she couldn't do that, for she had learned long ago when her mother had taken to alcohol that it was pointless to depend on anyone. If she leaned on her father for support, he would bore her with his drivel and waste her time. She ruled her mother out long ago from being a part of her support system. Foul intoxicated breath and teetering, unsteady legs did not count as consolation. She had to calm down now. On her own.

"And Jacob's the Alpha?"

It couldn't be. How coincidental could it get? The daughter of the real Alpha somewhat rescued by the present Alpha. Had the Fates known all along she was to return back to where her ancestor had been born? And was it important that she was the first girl to have been born in the family?

Billy shook his head, smiling as though he found it funny. Aurora looked at him questioningly, urging him through her eyes to explain. She sat restlessly, crossing and uncrossing her arms across her chest, sometimes running a hand through her long hair and sometimes drumming her long fingers on the table top, as Billy told her about Sam, the others, and the treaty signed with the Cullens. The time to have been surprised and taken aback should have been yesterday when she saw the brute vampire killing her parents and the magnificent enormous wolf, Jacob. Maybe it was the shock of her loss, the sheer enormity of the tragedy, which had her failing to acknowledge the supernatural world then. And it was  _now_ , when the breakfast was lying like a lump in the pit of her stomach, undigested and unmoving, and when she sat at the table, ramrod straight, looking at Billy's face that exuded tranquillity and a kind of submissive acceptance of everything around him, that  _reality_ had finally set in the deep recesses of her grieving brain.

_This_ _was_ _real._

Did she believe it? She might have, but Billy had no way of knowing. A grim look appeared on her face, her jaw set and clenched.

"Dad tried to tell me all along about all of this, and I didn't believe him." Aurora confessed out loud for the first time in her life. It was Billy's understanding gaze that made her blurt this niggling thought that plagued her. It felt oddly freeing to say it out loud; she had to go for years being tight-lipped about this family secret, mindful even with her mother's godson who was the only friend she had had.

"It's not your fault they're—" Billy began but Aurora cut him off immediately. She held her right hand up to prove that this wasn't the case. She wasn't blaming herself for their death. In fact, revenge poked her insides like a flaming rod, threatening to consume her in its clutches. She was blaming herself for the last look on her father's face—the look  _she_  had brought on because she had refused to  _believe._ She was so, so stupid.

"I just wish I could've been easier on him."

Billy nodded and placed a hand on her shoulder. This tiny gesture had her heart bursting with pain. Here was someone showing sympathy, and all Aurora wanted to do was weep and hold on to him. Had she really been that lonely before that this single token of concern filled her heart up with gratefulness?

"Can I ask you something, Aurora?"

"Yeah?" Aurora watched Billy's face turn from concern to worry—a look that would have been more appropriate on a man miserly guarding his treasures.

"There's a reason I haven't told Jacob of this. I should have a long time ago. He's entitled to at least be aware of what you know, but I have to think of the rest of the boys...and Leah. I can only imagine what a scandal this would be."

"So you want me to keep this to myself? Shouldn't be a doozy, I've kept secrets my whole life." Aurora snorted. Billy grimaced at the clear sarcasm in her voice.

"Until things  _unravel_ by themselves, yes. There would be an upheaval if the others knew too. But I doubt anything would get past Sam. He's sharp. Picks up on things I would normally miss. Heck, I'm sure he already sees you with suspicion."

Aurora knitted her brows together and chewed on her lower lip. Was she not welcome to the land of her ancestors?

"Why would he?"

"Jacob didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" Aurora jumped up for the second time. Her nerves were on edge, frazzled with everything going on; she was sure she would start flinging chairs around if she heard anything that might be bad news.

"Sit down, Aurora. It's nothing to be scared of."

"Then what is it?"

"Did you know two of your ribs were cracked when Jacob brought you here?" Billy asked her pointedly. Aurora wanted to scream at this invalid old man. What did broken ribs have to do with any of this? Nevertheless, she lifted her hands involuntarily up to her chest, feeling under her fingers the seamless,  _unbroken_ ridges beneath the fabric of her clothes.

"I healed." It was the simplest statement yet it held such an enormous implication.

Billy didn't know whether to be happy or to appear sad. This was something that bothered him.

"So this Sam thinks I might be...that I might  _turn_ into one of them?"

"Honestly, Aurora, I don't want to know what Sam thinks. Let's just see what happens."

"And...and if I turn into a wolf, where do I go…" Aurora looked about her helplessly. She had to go back home someday. What was she going to do? Run free and  _furry_ in that crap hole with no one around, wrecking the shitty furniture?

"La Push is  _home_ , Aurora," Billy said with finality. Aurora thought he might as well have said his house was now home to her.

"I...I can't—"

"No, really. You can stay till certain things  _pan_ out. Then you decide," Billy said in a cryptic tone as he picked up her plate and placed it in the sink. Aurora sat inertly on the chair, watching Billy wheel away from the room, his long dark hair pulled into a ponytail hanging over the back of the wheelchair.

What certain  _things?_ Why did she even have the option of deciding? Wasn't it a given that she had to return home—an empty, parent-less home?

Aurora found herself waiting for Jacob to come back, but what guarantee did she have that when he did return, that she would hold a stake on him? For all she knew, he must have _somebody_ \- a girlfriend or a lover - though having never played either role, the differences between the two were beyond Aurora's knowledge. He was handsome enough; therefore she assumed some accursed female might have already pegged him as her own. Was she imagining herself in those places? Already? It was too much to handle. Aurora didn't know until now if one person, one single being in a world of billions, could feel her heart exploding with an onslaught of emotions—with curiosity, pain, yearning, torment, rapture, and just unadulterated grief.

"We're as good as family, huh?" Billy patted her hand resting over the back of the chair, smiling as Jacob had before. It was uncanny how both father and son believed in this form of consolation—laid back yet comforting. It was the best solace she could seek in this state of mind.

Aurora's lips turned up in a small smile. After the lonely life she had led, Billy's reassurance was like elixir, and she felt indebted to him. Gratitude joined the dark clouds of jumbled emotions in her head. Great. There were just so many emotions she could handle right now.

"Jacob will take good care...of  _us_. He's a good kid," he added. Aurora's heart beat skyrocketed at his name; how could a twist of pleasure appear amid the mire of pain in her heart?

She was a walking, talking, breathing oxymoron.


	4. Perchance not to dream

_**CHAPTER 3** _

**_PERCHANCE NOT TO DREAM_ **

Aurora remembered pain and dreamt pain. It had been exactly seven days since...

It was almost funny when she thought of it. In the seven days since she woke up, sat around, and went back to sleep at the Blacks', not a single tear had flowed down her cheeks in mourning. Was she just incapable of sadness?

Never. She was sad when she was awake and sadder in her dreams. She dreamt terrible dreams – of her father, unnaturally pale as a vampire, gliding to her as she stood alone in a field of blood-red mud. In her dreams, he was accompanied by her mother, a similar pallor adorning her face; she smirked and sneered, accusing Aurora of murder. She dreamt of her mother brushing her hair softly – something she had not done in a long time – whispering endearments in Aurora's ear. But then she suddenly yanked Aurora's hair back, shrieking colourful accusations at her daughter. Her father pulled the collar of his bloody, torn plaid shirt back to reveal the clean deep punctures on his neck, a maniacal condemning gleam in his eyes. She also dreamt of the faceless vampire advancing savagely towards her parents, who were tied tightly with ropes of thick jute to rotting trees, while Aurora screamed helplessly and writhed against her own restraints to save them.

And all along Jacob had featured in her dreams, slipping in at the last minute, engulfing her in his iron-limbed grasp, shielding her from the horrifying visions. His touch, his heat, and his voice were real. In fact, they were the only real thing in these dreams. She could never fathom her father punishing her with gnawing guilt, nor her mother physically abusing her, despite the alcohol that had constantly flowed through her system. In real life, they had never been this way. Yet, in her dreams, they were condescending.

So Jacob  _did_ seem like the only real aspect of these nightmares. A few days into these dreams, she started calling for Jacob, looking for him before he finally began appearing by himself, while her parents wailed and screeched unnaturally. He always came in the end, and she clung to him like a life belt in the middle of a freezing, stormy sea.

In the dream she was currently having, she shut her eyes tightly, clamped her hand around her ears to seal the wails off, and wished in her head for Jacob to pop into her vision and hold her just like he always did.

Aurora felt her mouth moving. She was crying out his name over and over, her voice breaking with the inconsolable loss seeping into her heart. Where was he? Maybe the dream-Jacob had given up on her... writing her off as a lunatic. Aurora understood how he could tire of her incessant need to be held... to be comforted and bolstered. She was crazy. The dream Jacob was after all a figment of her imagination, derived from the real Jacob but suited more to her needs and desires.

She collapsed on the scarlet-tinged ground, expanding her senses until she could hear her father's arms scraping against his restraints and the  _whoosh_  of air as the vampire descended on her mother, and smell the metallic scent of fresh blood.  _She_ _accepted_ _it_.

She felt warm arms pick her up off the ground. She didn't open her eyes but concentrated on the delicious heat warming her, and the feel of the hard planes of the dream Jacob's chest against her back while his gentle hands rubbed her forehead to soothe her pounding headache. This was why she willingly suffered through her nightmares for seven days—to feel every part of his body against hers and gain comfort from his incandescent touch.

His warm breath tickling her ear was almost too real, and so were the bumps of the thick, bulging veins Aurora felt on the arms that were clutched tightly around her stomach. His breath started out in a whisper, and Aurora strained her ears for the words. Was he trying to tell her something? This was a first; the dream-Jacob had always held her quietly, rocking her back and forth, and even if she did see his mouth moving and forming words, she never heard them. Her heart pined to hear him say something.  _Anything._

"C'mon, Aurora. It's time to wake up. You've been  _there_ long enough," dream-Jacob murmured in her ear, his voice flowing like sweet, warm honey through the canals of her ear. She'd do anything for him. Wake up, it was then.

But why couldn't she? The more she tried to change the vision around her, the more the sounds clanged in her head like a death knell. It felt like she was stretching her face out of a rubbery membrane.

"I know it's scary. But I'm  _here_ ," he whispered again, and his words buffered her, helping her push against the tough, invisible – yet tangible – barrier that separated the terrifying dream world from the real world. It was the world where Aurora guessed Jacob would be sleeping soundly on the floor next to her bed.

Her body rattled as if someone was shaking her softly but firmly, and with a loud gasp and a feeling of rushing out of deep waters, Aurora flashed her eyes open, seeing a thick blanket of darkness settling on her. Was this a dream within a dream?

It couldn't be. The pounding in her rib cage was real enough, but what was the definition of  _real_  to her anyway? Blinking slowly, Aurora felt her eyes adjust to the darkness. Soothing rays of moonlight streamed inside, casting Jacob's room in an eerie glow. She was awake, and she was  _hot._

_Dream_ _Jacob_ _is_ _the_ _real_ _Jacob._

It had to be. Otherwise, Aurora would not have felt a hard body pressed against her back and sinewy arms holding her tightly around her stomach. The hot breath in her ear was real. His calming, reassuring voice was real. Everything about Jacob in her dream was real.

"I'm right here, Aurora. It was just a dream," he said, dipping his head down to her exposed, shivering neck to warm the area. So had Jacob always held her in the real world, watching her dream terrifying, unspeakable nightmares of her parents every night? Possibly flailing and writhing, saying embarrassing things, and scrambling to him with her eyes closed and her chest heaving?

That was why it had felt so real. Because it  _was_ real.

Real. Real. Real. Real. Aurora could keep repeating the word in her head but she still could not get over the fact that Jacob had  _really_ held her every night to ward her nightmares away. Had she embarrassed herself in any way? She had no way of knowing because every morning, Jacob had talked to her and gone about things as if her nightmares had never happened. Was he sweet enough not to remind her of her nightmares? Aurora had never known this kind of care in her entire life.

Aurora now thought of the half a dozen mornings when Jacob would treat her with his wide smile, always making her feel comfortable without smothering her. She realised he had woken up each morning with the knowledge of her crippling nightmares, and yet he had not allowed it to hamper his view of her, always smiling and always caring.

It was nice of him, Aurora thought, as she remembered the little items he bought for her and hid under her pillow before going on his mysterious every-day expeditions. One day it was a fruity-smelling shampoo, and the other, a few bars of chocolate. These gestures of his concern did not, however, distract her from his hours of disappearance. For the first two days, she had slept in, waking up minutes before he returned after sunset. She spent the rest of her days trying to wake up before he left, despite the lack of an alarm clock, in an effort to forget her on-going grieving process.

He would look slightly guilty before slipping out the door and sometimes even spend a few minutes talking to her as an attempt to assuage his guilt. Aurora had no idea what he was up to; she had enough faith in him to know he wasn't doing anything illegal, but not enough to feel that he was doing something dangerous that could jeopardize his existence and therefore hers. In this way, she found her sanity inexplicably linked to his physical presence and proximity, or lack thereof.

She was digressing. Shouldn't the fact that Jacob held her so, so close to his body now, until she could feel the pulse of his thumping heart on her back, be a source of awkwardness for the two of them? Since she had awoken and realised that her dreams were dreams and Jacob was Jacob, Aurora thought he would soon extricate himself from around her and go back to sleep. She didn't want him to.

And he didn't. He held her the same way, his breath still swirling around in her ear pleasurably, sending sporadic jolts of electricity down from her heart, through her churning stomach, and down to her groin. And as time passed – for it may have been a few seconds or a few minutes or even a few hours – Aurora knew  _this_ was far from awkward.

She also knew this was a turning point. Hadn't she opened her senses to the warped dream world and  _accepted_ it? Was that why she had finally opened her eyes and seen that Jacob had held her all along, and that he wasn't a product of her overactive, bereaved mind? Is that why the choking sounds of her parents, the sight of the despicable vampire, and the smell of blood disappeared in a wisp of white smoke as she felt Jacob's unyielding grasp?

As she closed her eyes, Jacob still murmuring in consolation, she slipped into a blank dreamless sleep, the first of many nights where the gruesome dreams never came back again.

* * *

Embry stared at the newsprint absent-mindedly, not bothering to read the words as he held the crumpled newspaper out in front of him. He shifted slightly in his seat on Jacob's couch, feeling its age old springs poke him harshly. The house was quiet except for Aurora tossing around in Jacob's bed slowly. He grew nervous when he heard her climb out of bed. What could you say to a girl who could possibly be your half-sister?

Embry reminded himself to thank Jacob later for making him do this –  _keeping_ _an_ _eye_ _on_ _her,_ _just_ _in_ _case_ , in Jacob's words – which would involve bashing some teeth in. Maybe even an atomic wedgie if he could. Embry didn't want to think of his best friend's underwear, but what could he do? He hated being stuck in social situations such as this.

Moronic friends he could handle, but not Aurora.

Embry stuffed the newspaper out of sight and switched the television on. Leaning back with his hands behind his head, he hoped he would appear as nonchalant as he could be when she came out into the living room. How else could he appear? Bombard her with questions about her father? Interrogate her? If he did, it would be the welcome of the century.

He heard the tap being turned on; a loud sigh caught his ears, and he crossed his fingers and looked up at the ceiling, praying fervently for Aurora not to cry. He'd seen a lot in Jacob's head, but he hadn't seen her crying. Except for the occasional anger fits, stabbing her food venomously, stomping into Jacob's room, and repeatedly trying to slam the broken door – which she did only when Billy wasn't around – Aurora was in as good shape as anyone.

If she started to cry now, what could Embry do? Pat her back and say, "There, there?" Even in his head, it sounded lame. He was sure she would swing a punch at him if he did that.

A loud throat clearing made him jump, and he snapped up straight. Aurora stood silently, watching him curiously. Embry raised a hand half-heartedly in greeting for even signs of greeting had evaded his mind when he realised this girl could know some secrets his mother had kept from him. He was so close to opening Pandora's Box, and it scared him.

"Hey...uh, I'm—"

"You're Embry, I know." Aurora nodded, softly punching her right fist into the palm of her left hand repeatedly in awkwardness.

Embry heaved a sigh in relief. She sounded normal enough.

Aurora looked around her, craning her neck to look out the window. Looking for Jacob, no doubt, Embry thought. He could swear that the two were inseparable even if they had not an inkling of just how much.

"Billy's at Sue's," he said, smirking. As expected, Aurora neither cared where Billy was nor who Sue was. It was Jacob she wanted to see.

"So, Jacob's out again?" she asked icily; her anger wasn't directed at Embry...just through Embry to wherever the hell Jacob was.

Embry nodded and asked immediately, "So, do you want to eat something?"

Changing the subject had always worked wonders for Embry of late, especially when he found himself involuntarily agreeing to everything Leah said and followed her around like a puppy. But that was another matter altogether.

Aurora got to the cereal cabinet before he could; although she felt his gaze on her as she sat down, she ignored his curious look and ate quietly. She had grown used to random pack members 'babysitting' her at odd hours of the day when Jacob or Billy weren't around. Her eyes were bright and sparkled intensely, while his eyes were always either turned away in awkwardness or zoned out when he thought too much. Were their noses the same, or did their lips turn up the same way when they smiled? Embry had a strange urge to pull her to a mirror and look at both of their faces side by side to see if her father had, in fact, impregnated his mother. He couldn't do it; she would think he had lost his mind permanently.

She looked at him, with one beautifully shaped eyebrow cocked up in question. Maybe he had to stop staring. He tore his gaze from her face and instead focused on the old over-sized sweatpants reaching beyond her toes. Jacob's clothes, of course. Aurora had only the clothes she had worn the day her parents died. Embry remembered seeing splattered blood on those clothes. However, the next day during patrol, Jacob had gleefully rewound the memory of lending his clothes to her over and over, some parts (Jacob's fantasies, no doubt) mysteriously blurred out as though Jacob had an involuntary  _censor_ system in his brain. Jared had said it was like trying to watch vintage porn on shitty cable. It was a simple matter of giving her the twins' old clothes, but Embry knew his best friend. The bastard obviously got some sick pleasure out of doing this.

Or maybe it wasn't  _sick_ since Aurora didn't seem to mind it at all. Sure, she had to keep hiking her sweatpants up and pulling the T-shirt up when the sleeves slipped past her shoulders. And she refused to acknowledge the fact that the twins' clothes would fit her. Even if he tried to understand the two of them, he knew he never would. After all, they weren't like the normal imprinted couple.

"I could get you some clothes from your place..." Embry said, his eyes widening at his own statement and then faltered as Aurora turned around, her hands soapy with detergent, "...if you want."

_Shit._

He had officially lost his mind. Why else would he hear the voice of little curious Embry whisper maniacally in his head to look for an opportunity to snoop around the house of a dead man who could have been his father?

"Okay." Aurora nodded, fishing a small group of keys from her pocket. Didn't she think he was crazy? Or maybe she was crazy too. Maybe...just maybe...craziness ran in the family.

Embry caught the flying keys in mid-air and pocketed them. He looked at Aurora questioningly. It was her last chance to back out. He thought he saw relief wash over her features. Was she relieved she didn't have to go back to the empty house herself?

"Directions?" she asked, ripping a small portion of a piece of paper from the refrigerator and scribbling something on it. Aurora pushed the paper into Embry's hand; she was burning up.

Embry looked closely at the paper. He scrutinized the narrow, loopy script. Did he curl his 'g's the same way she did? No. No. He would know soon enough when he reached the house.

"Fuck! Sorry, uh... I... crap," Embry swore under his breath as he remembered Jacob's stern face when he ordered Embry to keep a close watch on her while he was away. He would be gambling his manhood away if he left her alone now. He had to find someone else to be in his place.

Ignoring Aurora's quizzical stares, Embry picked up the phone hooked on the wall. His other best friend was probably the only guy he would entrust with this  _mission_ even though Quil's babysitting skills left something to be desired. That was saying something since he babysat Claire every waking minute.

Ten minutes later, Embry and Aurora sat at the dining table, Aurora's glares turning more hostile and angry by the minute as Embry tried to get a sleeping Quil to pick up the phone. There was one other option—Leah. She was a girl – a fact he was increasingly made aware of ever since Aurora was brought to Jacob's house – and Aurora was a girl. Sue Embry for being such a  _guy,_ but wasn't that the only logical choice?

Also, Embry  _wanted_ to call Leah.

"What?" Leah's irritable voice, thick with sleep, crackled on the phone.

"Can you come over to Jacob's?"

"Who the fuck is this?"

"Embry."

"Bye—"

"No, Leah. Please," Embry pleaded. Was he actually begging Leah? Something had changed that evening when Jacob returned to La Push. Leah had seemed less...unfriendly. She still snapped at him, growling and nipping him when she had the chance, but she had stopped ribbing him about his parentage. Was that the reason why he felt Leah was not so bad after all? It was nice to not have someone remind him of his parentage, but was he going overboard with Leah by agreeing to everything she said and making sure he had more hours of patrol with her? He had to admit it—Leah never looked the same after that evening.

"What do you want?" she growled. Embry heard the rustling of sheets on her end.

"...Sit here with Aurora."

"What?"

"Can you come over so you can give Aurora company?"

"Where the hell is that numb nut of hers?"

"You know, out doing what he said he's doing," Embry whispered, cupping his hand over the phone. He could feel the heat of Aurora's burning gaze into the back of his head. He could even hear Aurora's nostrils flaring.

"Then fuck off. It's not my problem. Good night."

"It's eleven in the morning, Leah."

The line went dead. Whipping around with the phone dangling from his hand, Embry saw Aurora's hand clutching the back of a chair, her knuckles turning white.

"You guys can just carry on talking about me as if I'm not here. Go on. I don't mind at all," Aurora hissed.

_She_ _would_ _mind..._ _a_ _lot._

"Hey, I'm just doing what Jacob asked me to do," Embry said, raising his palms up in surrender.

"Why can't I be left alone?"

"Um...I don't know. You're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself." Embry laughed nervously. What if he had an angry girl on his hands who could explode in a furry mess any minute? This was Sam's department. Not Embry's.

"See. You're doing it again. Sidestepping me. What do I look like, huh? A giant fucking  _monster_? Everyone walks around me like I'm a pipe bomb waiting to explode...everyone thinks I'm going to turn into one of you guys, don't they?" Aurora asked, looking him dead in the eye.

Embry wanted to look away; she was scary this way. Not that he was scared of a  _girl_ , he thought, but she seemed to buzz with undeniable authority.

Both of them jumped when the phone rang loudly through the pregnant pause. Aurora's shoulders slumped in resignation, and she nodded to Embry to answer the phone.

"Hello?" Embry asked hesitantly, glancing at Aurora splashing water on her face.

"I'm sending Seth. He'll do a better job of it...I guess."

Leah. It was probably the first time in his life that Embry was glad to hear her sensuous voice over the phone.

"You're a lifesaver, Le—"

"Cut the pansy bullshit."

"Fine. Thanks, I guess."

There was no answer but Embry imagined her lips turning up in a reluctant smile.

"Yeah, yeah," Leah said dismissively, and the dial tone beeped in Embry's ear.

"Seth's coming over," Embry said. Aurora eyes lit up in recognition. She didn't seem averse to the idea. She waved him away, smiling apologetically.

"Look, there's no pressure to phase. You might not even...whatever, just know that when you feel like the time's right, think flea collars and kibble. Flying tennis balls. Or chase your own butt. That should do the trick," Embry said in a serious tone, the corners of his mouth twitching.

She chuckled under her breath and waved him away again. Embry gave her a crisp, military salute and walked out, trusting her to be alright by herself until Seth came over.

He was setting out to do something he had never done. What good was snooping around in the house of a man who could have fathered you...illegitimately? What was he going to find, a long, tear-stained letter written by his father of how much he regretted not knowing his son... also hopefully bequeathing his secret treasure worth millions to his neglected bastard child?

Embry had a strange feeling he would bail as soon as he would open the front door to Aurora's house.

* * *

"So, it hurt really badly when you first phased?" Aurora asked, looking at Seth through her eyelashes as the slurping sounds of her sucking soda through her teeth with a straw broke the silence.

Seth shrugged and nodded, confusing Aurora with his silent, non-committal answer as bread crumbs flew from his stuffed, chewing mouth. She waited for him to answer verbally, clasping the cold can tightly and rubbing the condensation off with her thumb. There were other important matters he had brought up, being unaware of just how much he had revealed of Jacob's life before Aurora. Aurora listened quietly, her face changing in a myriad of emotions as Seth told her about Bella. It unnerved Seth when Aurora's face turned the colour of puce at the mention of Bella's wish to be turned into a vampire. He thought it was stupid of himself to tell her things that could upset her, but who else would? Everyone tried to stay as distant from Aurora as possible and Seth understood why, but that didn't stop him from befriending her. He was just that kind of guy.

Seth's Adam's apple bobbed up and down in a massive gulp. "It hurt," he said, licking his lips.

Aurora cringed. Was she scared of the pain that could come from phasing? No. But no one accepts pain blindly, even if they were in Aurora's state of mind where a dull throbbing pain in the chest never let up.

"Not  _that_ kind of hurt," Seth said, noticing her expression.

"What do you mean?"

"My body didn't hurt. In fact, I felt like I was being tickled by kittens," he said, a cheeky grin spreading on his bright face.

"Kittens? Really, Seth?" She snorted.

"I just wanted to make you smile. You looked too serious."

Aurora blinked awkwardly at Seth.

"But you said it hurt."

"Uh huh. When I first exploded, the first sound I heard with  _these..._ ," he murmured, yanking his earlobe gently with a rueful expression, "...was Dad's heart pumping like crazy. It slowed down. And then... nothing."

Aurora felt her heart wrench, her body recognizing another soul that had lost someone close. She wanted to hug Seth, not because he needed comforting but because she wanted some for herself too. It seemed like everything reminded her of the tragedy. And Seth losing his father in an equally horrifying, yet vampire-less tragedy was enough to make her feel sympathetic. Hugging Seth would be a means of accepting it. But she didn't do it.

Instead, she placed her slightly warm hand over his burning large hand and squeezed it. When Seth patted her hand, she resisted the urge to pull her hands away and snarl at him.

_These_ _hands_ _were_ _only_ _meant_ _to_ _hold_ _Jacob_ _'_ _s,_ _right?_

She was crazy...of that, she was sure. Seth was nothing but a brother in her eyes. It was true Seth was the only pack member, except Jacob, who could look her full in the face and not be fazed by the supremacy that seemed to shine in it. He had a cheerful, blatant stare, and it didn't unnerve Aurora. So why was this troubling her? She had other important things to think about and ask too...

"I'm sorry, Seth."

Seth ignored her quiet condolence. His eyes were glazed, and he looked off into the trees. He slowly bounced his knees up and down and placed his over-sized hands behind him on the floor of the porch, leaning back as he did so.

"I wasn't angry like the others, you know," Seth said, and continued when Aurora looked at him puzzled. "...Everyone phased first because something royally pissed them off... but not me. I just  _did_ , you know. But seeing Dad like that, I howled and howled and howled..."

Aurora held his hand again, but she had reconciled with her dilemma. Seth didn't mean more than he seemed to her; he was just a friend. It was something she hadn't had in a long time. Seth held her reassuring hand, squeezing it tightly and causing Aurora's eyes to water with the pain.

"Ro-ro, sorry...crap, did that hurt?" Seth asked, looking extremely sorry as he smoothened her crushed fingers.

"Ro-ro?" Aurora grinned slightly. It was the first genuine smile that had appeared on her face in days.

"Yeah. Sounds just like you, right?" Seth said cheerfully and Aurora marvelled at his ability to go from sad and nostalgic to perky and teasing.

"Sounds like a pit bull." Aurora snorted, flexing her fingers. Seth didn't say any more; he took the silence as an opportunity to look at her some more as if he was reading a book with microscopic print.

"Where were we?" she reminded him. She regretted doing this, but she had a growing feeling that he hadn't owned up to anyone since his father's death. Aurora guessed that it was his outwardly cheerful attitude that fooled people into thinking he was all right. She guessed it was how she must look to others—completely unaffected by her parents' deaths. The absolute dryness of her eyes had that effect on people.

"Huh? Oh yeah...see this," Seth said, sounding reminiscent again as he pointed to his bare ankle that had a reasonably sized pitted scar. "Leah took a chunk out of me to make me stop howling that night. I guess she dealt with it a different way."

He shrugged and dusted crumbs off his ratty old T-shirt. Aurora's mind painted vivid, faceless pictures and visions of Leah, the female wolf she'd heard so much about, though each person she'd talked to had a different version of who Leah was as a person.

"How is she...you know, her body and all that? Does she have muscles too?"

Seth's features twisted in distaste.

"Eh...I try not to think so much about my sister's body, Ro."

"I just...I was just wondering...how it is to be a wolf and all...especially when you're a girl," Aurora said softly, looking away as she realised how idiotic she had sounded.

"You're getting way ahead of yourself."

"No, I'm not." Aurora frowned.

"It hasn't even happened yet and you're already asking me questions I don't ever, and I mean  _ever_ , want to know the answer to."

"What can I do? I just sit around all day, staring out at this exact set of trees, waiting for..." she stuttered, stopping herself from mentioning Jacob in front of Seth. "I uh...I do nothing so these things keep turning over and over in my fucked up head," Aurora admitted.

Seth nodded in understanding. "I think you're by yourself too much in this house," Seth said, looking thoughtful.

" _Not._ Jacob always has someone to 'babysit' me. It's like he doesn't trust me."

"You're wrong there though, Ro. He just doesn't want you to be alone," Seth corrected her. Aurora wondered if Seth had seen this in Jacob's thoughts. Seth had told her just how privy every pack member was to each other's most private thoughts. What else did Seth see in Jacob's head? Could she ask Seth about how Jacob felt about her? Or was it too personal? She didn't want to give away her feelings too much because she had already asked too many questions about Jacob. Seth was the kind of person Aurora thought she could trust, but she didn't even trust herself or her feelings.

"What I'm trying to say is that you should get out of the house once in a while," Seth said as he looked at her, smiling.

"I don't really have anywhere to go, Seth. But thanks for reminding me," Aurora said, sighing heavily. She was prone to occasional bouts of sarcasm which she could never help.

"C'mon," Seth muttered, picking up the empty can from Aurora's lap and throwing it aside before pulling her up from the steps of the porch.

"Seth, what are you doing?" she hissed, while trying to resist his strong grip dragging her across the front lawn. She failed obviously, but for a moment, she thought she had the chance. Of late, she found her hands exerting more strength than ever. Dents in door handles, sudden cracking of water glasses she held in her hand, and the ripping of the shower curtain were all testament to her new found strength. Apparently it wasn't enough to match the strength of the pack.

Seth pulled her in the direction of the sea, where waves could be heard crashing against the shore gently. Aurora's heart lifted slightly, for the ocean had always held a special place in her heart for various reasons. Seth stopped abruptly, digging his bare heels into the dirt road and muttering to himself as he decided where to take her.

"Have you made up your mind yet or should I just let you drag me around like a rag doll?" Aurora asked in a bored tone. She had given up on prying his vice-like fingers off her hand. Was he scared she would run away if he let go of her?

"Oops, sorry...did I hurt you again?" he apologised, quickly letting go of her hand. Aurora rubbed her hand and followed Seth as he turned in the opposite direction. "We'll go to Emily's. She always makes the best muffins."

"Sam's Emily?" Aurora whispered. Seth turned around to see her standing still with her fingers twisting together.

"What's wrong?" Seth asked, holding Aurora by the elbow and slightly shaking her. She stood rigid, her eyes swivelling side to side as though she was in deep thought—thoughts that weren't altogether pleasant.

Whenever anyone mentioned Sam, Aurora felt a pang of irritation. She hadn't even met the man and he was already someone she didn't want to meet. She knew it was wrong of her to feel this way, but when she heard of Emily, it frightened her even more. Didn't Seth tell her that a wolf would be anything the imprint wants him to be? Well, why could Sam  _not_ _be_ angry when he had that big fight with Emily? And now she was scarred for life.

Aurora thought it was a bit rich of herself to be judging Sam. Hadn't Aurora herself done some sort of injustice to the ones she loved? Hadn't she refuted her father every chance she got?

She mustn't think of Sam like this, Aurora thought, but that still didn't negate the fact that facing Emily would be downright scary. What was Aurora supposed to say? Where could she look so as not to hurt Emily's feelings? When Aurora herself had so many feelings bubbling beneath the surface, she thought it would be very difficult to take care of the feelings of someone  _other_ than herself.

Aurora wanted to run away. She also wanted to stay. La Push, or in fact, any place on Earth was tolerable because of Jacob, even if he was around for less than half a day. So where was the next best place to escape?

The salt of the ocean stung her nostrils and her question was answered.

"I need to be alone right now, Seth," she whispered, folding her hands across her chest in the chilly breeze.

Seth dropped his hand from her elbow. "Um...okay?" he replied quizzically.

"I'll just go out to the beach for a while. If it's okay with you," Aurora said, though she would have gone even if Seth had refused to let her go. The ocean reminded her of happier days, and she thought she could do with some happy memories now.

"Well, if you want to. Take care, okay?" Seth said, waiting for her to turn around. After an awkward silence and waving goodbye, Seth watched Aurora walk slowly down the winding road that led to the beach. He kept his ears strained to hear if she was crying, but he could only hear her heart beating steadily and her feet digging into the sand.

He hoped for Aurora's sake that some time alone would be the perfect way to lift her spirits because Seth had never seen anyone as defeated yet calm as her.

* * *

Emily screamed as Jacob strode through the bushes and pounced on an unsuspecting Seth in her backyard. Emily rushed down the steps of her front door to where Jacob sat on top of Seth, shaking him violently.

"Jacob! Stop, you're hurting him," Emily screamed, trying to grab onto Leah who launched herself on Jacob, wrapping her arms around his neck to pry him off of Seth.

"Why did you let her go? You're such a shit head," Jacob hissed through gritted teeth as he held Seth's collar tightly. Leah's frantic struggles to get him off her brother seemed to have no effect on him. Jacob's head pounded loudly, still fresh from the adrenaline that had coursed through his body when he finally caught a fresh trail of the vampire. He wanted to run alongside it until it led to the murderer, but every step away from La Push and away from Aurora hurt him emotionally. It was unlike the pain the other imprinted wolves experienced when away from their imprints. While theirs was a blinding stab in the gut, Jacob's was a mere blinding of his  _senses_. Sprinting after the trail with his vision blank and his sense of smell equally non-functional was terrifying. So Jacob turned around, blankness and all, until the fresh piny scent of the forest and the sight of thick trees flying by reappeared.

And when he saw Embry's thoughts as he phased, Jacob dashed in a mad hurry back to La Push to find an Aurora-less Seth. Jacob tried very hard not to obsess about her safety or her sanity. Under a ruse of cool nonchalance, Jacob behaved as though he wanted to give Aurora all the emotional space she wanted at this point of time. But how long would it be before Jacob's bravado broke down and he did the one thing he always wanted to but never had the courage to do—tell Aurora what she meant to him and hold her tightly until she fused into him and they became one? Jacob's arms itched every waking moment to hold her; the nightmares had served as an excellent opportunity. But was that horrible of him?

Jacob shook Seth until he could hear his brain rattling inside his cranium. It was so foolish of Seth, Jacob thought.

"Where the hell is she?" Jacob growled menacingly, ignoring Leah perched on his back like a giant, writhing bat.

"Whoa. Whoa. Time out, man. She's at the beach. She wanted to be alone so I let her be."

"What!"

"The beach, man. I know you can smell her yourself," Seth said shakily, unnerved to see Jacob so agitated. Jacob knew Seth spoke the truth. So, it  _was_  true; Jacob had smelled her by the beach. But he didn't believe himself. How many times did he go out to patrol in the woods and thought he smelled Aurora close by? Initially, he would bound to the source happily but then realise that she was still at home. Her scent played such a pivotal role in his happiness that it permanently remained ingrained in his nostrils like a pleasant memory.

"You're an idiot." Jacob shook him some more.

"You fucker. Get off my baby brother," Leah screeched, yanking Jacob's head back. Leah's hands felt like annoying ants crawling up his back and hair, so he shrugged her off as he picked himself up.

"Stay the fuck out of this," Jacob commanded in a low voice.

"Hey! What's going on?" Embry called out angrily from behind the trees, taking in Leah's tousled hair and flushed expression while he straightened his shorts and pulled the zipper up.

"You can't just leave a girl like that alone." Jacob turned to Seth menacingly, towering over him by a few inches and staring him down.

Leah launched herself on Jacob again, but Embry caught her around the middle and pulled her away from Jacob.

"Seth did nothing wrong, you asshole," Leah spat while trying to shake Embry's restricting hands off.

"Fuck off, Leah."

"Back off, man. Don't talk to her like that," Embry murmured under his breath and tried to stand before Jacob in his full height. Jacob's deathly glares terrified him but  _this_ – defending Leah – was a more  _natural_  course of action.

"And  _you_! I thought I gave explicit instructions to you. But nooo, you have to send Seth along. Of all people,  _Seth_?" Jacob shouted at Embry. Emily retreated into her house.

"Easy, Jake. I had to do some stuff for her," Embry said, biting down on his lip to stop the involuntary snarl creeping on his face.

"What the hell were you thinking running off to that house? It was damn stupid of you."

"Don't talk to Embry like that. What gives you the right to shout at us, huh, Black? I swear I'll—" Leah hissed under her breath, and started to approach Jacob with her fists raised.

" _Stop_ _fighting_ _and_ _stay_ _where_ _you_ _are_!"

Everyone stopped abruptly, their arms flopping down to their sides with the weight of Sam's Alpha command. Sam stood on the back porch, towering over Emily who stood by his side with a disappointed look on her face. He peered through his hooded eyes, confused and discomfited by the sight of three of his pack members rounding on each other like warring animals.

Seth stood up and shook the dirt off his shorts but remained in the same spot, seeming as though an invisible iron fist was holding him there.

"You could've saved all this time and just gone straight to the beach, Jake." Seth had the audacity to point it out to Jacob.

"Yeah. I'm going..." Jacob murmured, and Sam looked on in dismay as Jacob shrugged his shoulders as easily as though he was shaking off water. The command had no effect on him. Sam's eyes followed Jacob's imposing figure as he strode away from Embry and Leah. They stood motionless, gawking at how easily Jacob walked away, unaffected by Sam's command.

Throwing one last filthy look at Embry, Jacob walked down the road leading to the beach. He remembered the unconscious filtering of his thoughts whenever he thought of Aurora...differently. Sexually. It seemed to astonish the pack that when Jacob's thoughts strayed to the long line of her neck, the sweeping swell of her breasts rising up and down with each breath, a cerebral screen would appear, milky and translucent. Everyone except for Jacob could only hear garbled thoughts which sounded like bad radio frequency reception. And didn't Embry's thoughts vanish into an opalescent void – much like Jacob's had – a few minutes ago when they were both phased? Did Embry have the same kind of feelings for Aurora too or was it someone else?

The idea was absolutely nauseating; Jacob couldn't understand why Embry seemed less like the Embry he knew and grew up with each passing day. He was more assertive, picked fights, and was easily nettled all in the name of defending Leah...

Jacob couldn't be bothered more for he caught sight of Aurora just as a mixture of the salty breeze and her unique scent filled him up until his heart seemed to jump right out of his chest. She was lying stretched out on the sloping sand, her arms extended behind her to support herself. Long strands of hair whipped around her face in the harsh breeze. Jacob's hand involuntarily shot up to push her hair away even though she was several yards away from him. It was then Jacob saw the small serene smile on her face as her eyes flickered in the rush of cool salty air. Was she enjoying herself?

The breeze was biting, and Jacob worried if she was getting cold. Her body was relaxed, the ends of her sweatpants were rolled up hastily and her knees and elbows were damp with sea water. The only indication of the unwelcome weather caused Jacob to harden almost instantly—her raised nipples poking through the fabric of his old T-shirt that hung loosely about her shoulders. His mind slipped into overdrive and he wondered how it would be to rub them between his fingers. Maybe he was going too far. Maybe he had to back up a little and imagine how she would kiss, whether she would like his lips pressing against her soft ones, and how the smile on her face would light up Jacob's evening. But that didn't stop him from mentally undressing her with his eyes and visualising her naked body.

As if she could hear him screaming the salacious thoughts loudly in his head, she turned her head to see Jacob standing transfixed. A heart-stopping smile stretched her face as she looked at him eagerly to approach her. Her smile anchored him, pulling him slowly as though she was the centre of the universe and him only an insignificant magnetic speck.

He flopped down on the sand beside her, watching her intently as she now struggled to push her hair back from her face. She finally gave up and pushed all her hair over the other shoulder, revealing the tantalising copper-toned expanse of her neck to Jacob. He tore his eyes away from it, ignored the rush of blood to her cheeks as he did so, and looked at her face, wondering if she was as peaceful as she looked seconds ago. Even if she  _was_ happy, an iota even, he was sure that his life would seem complete.

"I'm okay...if you're wondering why I took off like this," Aurora said softly, wriggling her toes as she spoke. She shook off the wet sand that had collected around them.

Did she read his mind?

"Did you give Seth hell for this?"

"How did you know—?"

"So you did!"

"Uh...I might have—"

"It wasn't his fault, Jacob."

"Hold on. How  _did_ you know I would, you know..."

"When you thought I was sleeping, I heard you threaten Embry with... what's the word... 'ripping his face off'," she said with a smirk, marking quotation marks in the air.

"It wasn't a threat. He didn't take me seriously—"

"Yeah, I know. He called you a tool," she chuckled.

"Eavesdrop much?" Jacob joked but inside he burned with embarrassment. What if he had spoken of imprinting on her or whatever the fuck  _this_ was, and she had overheard. Jacob always envisioned a quiet evening – free of the pain, loss, and grief – when he could tell Aurora everything about his life before her and about how big a part she had in his life now. This was not the way he wanted her to find out.

Aurora sighed contently, looking out at the slowly advancing waves crashing few metres from her feet, and as her chest rose and fell in the sigh, her lips curved into a smile. Jacob wanted to chisel this particular memory in his head like a permanent photograph—a solid reminder of times when Aurora looked happy because times like this didn't come around too often. Jacob thought he could still see the edge in her eyes that screamed pain, but it was somewhat dulled. Maybe there was something otherworldly about sitting by the beach, smelling the salty spray of the ocean, and feeling the wind through your hair and the soft grains of sand slipping through your toes like a sieve.

Her body exuded a natural air of dignity, and Jacob felt drawn to it like a magnet. Sometimes, he imagined feeling stronger, taller, and faster just by sitting beside her, talking to her, and listening to the warm air flowing in and out of her chest. It felt as though he fed off her energy—energy of a different kind that glorified her already beautiful face, eyes, and hair. Jacob thought she fed off his presence too. Why else did her nightmares lessen in intensity every successive night that he held and rocked her? It was a symbiosis of sorts and Jacob was scared this perfect synergy could be disrupted by any small thing.

"You look..." Jacob stopped himself. What could he say? Beautiful? Content? Breath-taking? Stunning? Fucking hot?

Aurora raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"...At  _home_ ," he finished. Aurora's face fell infinitesimally, but she nodded in agreement.

"Ricky used to call me a water baby," she whispered, looking nostalgic. She turned to look morosely at the run down stall that said  _Surfboard_ _Rentals_ , shut with a giant rusty padlock and peeling yellow paint on its sides.

_Who_ _the_ _fuck i_ _s_ _Ricky?_ _Please_ _let_ _it_ _be_ _her_ _father._

"Who's Ricky?" Jacob asked, fighting to keep the edge of jealousy off his tone.

Aurora snapped out of a reverie she had slipped into and said, "Oh uh...he...he was my mother's godson."

Jacob hoped, for his sanity's sake, that Ricky was only a godson. Nothing more.

"He moved after high school to the east coast. Couldn't keep in touch with him after that," she murmured, and Jacob saw the familiar dark cloud of anguish descend upon her face. Jacob wished he could do something; he felt desperate and helpless whenever Aurora's face caved in with misery at the sudden memory of a time long gone. There was nothing he could do, just sit beside her and watch.

Aurora wiggled her shoulders as though to shake the sensation off of her.

"So, what's Bella doing right now?" Aurora asked. Jacob gaped at her, his heart plummeting in a nose dive. He looked into her eyes and a distinct kind of fire burned in them. Jacob shivered.

"Uh...how...how did you...wait, let me guess...Seth?"

"Yeah." one eyebrow was raised up her smooth, caramel forehead, waiting for an answer.

"Bastard."

"Well?" Aurora asked authoritatively, turning around in the sand to face him, her legs crossed under her. Jacob noticed how her hands clutched her exposed, sandy ankles tightly. She moved in closer, and Jacob caught the smell of soda in her breath and the fruity tang in her hair. She had used the shampoo he had bought for her. He remembered spending a good ten minutes flipping open a bottle of each brand of shampoo away from the store clerk's disapproving eyes, sniffing them to match the best scent that he associated with Aurora.

Aurora placed her slightly burning hand on his outstretched knee. Jacob wanted to laugh nervously at how every point in his body – be it his five senses or any other part of his body – seemed to have a direct link to his cock. Sparks were now shooting off in his groin at her soft, enquiring touch.

_Not_ _now!_ _Down,_ _boy._

"She's on her honeymoon...probably," Jacob muttered.

" _You_ _'_ _re_ _kidding_?"

Jacob's mouth flew open; bolts of unadulterated anger shot from her onyx eyes.

"She just threw her life away...to...to become the kind of monster she was in love with! I don't believe it. Her parents and  _you_  too...she just threw everyone who loved her so much aside like filthy garbage just so she can have eternity with that...that  _parasite_!" Aurora raised her voice, oblivious of Jacob's absolute shock, and continued with a pained expression on her face. "What about her parents? You know how much I would  _die_ to just look mine in the face again and tell them how sorry I am...that I loved them even if I never said it out loud...it's fucking bullshit. That  _bitch_ is full of bullshit. She doesn't know what she already has."

All along, Jacob had imagined she was furious at Jacob for loving Bella, kissing her, and running away from home because of her. But  _no_ , that wasn't the case. She didn't blame Jacob for the things he did. She didn't point fingers at his rash decisions nor reproach his choices. It was all about admonishing herself. Jacob wanted to hug her, but her shoulders were rigid and unwelcoming in their posture.

So he reached out for her clenched hand, stroking it slowly to unfurl her tight fingers. Grasping her palm, fine grains of sand chafed between their hands, and Jacob realised she had been holding fistfuls of sand in her clenched hands. He brushed the sand off gently, avoiding her gaze but being fully aware of how her chest heaved with sadness. He took both her hands in his and held them, warming them up with his searing heat, and Aurora felt sensation crawl back to her numb extremities.

How is it that the world had conspired to bring Jacob to Aurora when she needed him the most? And how did Jacob know exactly what her body desired—whether it was just holding her hands, wrapping his arms around her tightly, or just holding her delicately like she would break any moment? Would she lose whatever small companionship she shared with Jacob if she questioned it? She was better off not analysing why Jacob was always around whenever she needed comfort.

She was merely thankful.


End file.
